


A Long Way Down to the Bottom of the River

by 6Space_Witch9



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano as Obi-Wan Kenobi's Padawan, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Amnesia, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Clones as Mandalorians, Death Watch (Star Wars), Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Homecoming, I can finally put all the courses on Genocide I studied in college to work on this fanfic, I've basically made Anakin Shrek as I've been told, Injury Recovery, Jedi Culture & Tradition (Star Wars), Jedi as Found Family (Star Wars), Kidnapping, Loss of Identity, Love Confessions, Mand'alor Jango Fett, Mandalorian Culture, Multi, Past Jango Fett/Myles the Mandalorian, Past Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Past Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Presumed Dead, Slavery, Slow Burn, Sort Of, Strangers to Lovers, Terrorism, The Force, most word building isn't cannon but from my big juicy brain, thats a lil sus Satine, why are the new mandalorians all white
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:48:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26932393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6Space_Witch9/pseuds/6Space_Witch9
Summary: Ahsoka hopes she makes her Master proud, as much as it hurts she knows that she'll never hear him say the words himself or really know if she's making him proud, Anakin Skywalker is dead and is never coming back.Guilt eats at Jango and it chews at him like he's an all you can eat buffet as he waits for his son to come home, he knows it's never going to happen after clan Vizsla sold his son into slavery, but it gives him comfort to hopeWhile they struggle with their grief Anakin really hopes the stupidly attractive man who is currently face down in his swamp doesn't mind that they'll have to share a bed until his injuries heal.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Barriss Offee/Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker, Jango Fett & CT-7567 | Rex, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Hondo Ohnaka, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 133
Kudos: 345





	1. Our Stories Intertwine

**Author's Note:**

> Could you tell I can't work on only one project? Oh well haha, I took a bit of inspiration from the lantern theme from Tangled, I always thought the movie was really beautifully animated!

“You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?” Obi-Wan asks from behind her as Ahsoka swings her legs in the open air, sitting on the railing of one of the many balconies the Temple has. She came here to be alone but she knew her Master would find her eventually.

“Tomorrow will mark the anniversary, tomorrow will mean it’s been five years.” Ahsoka replies as she looks up at the black Coruscant sky. The city creates so much light pollution that it’s hard to see the swathes of spiralling galaxies. It’s what she misses the most when back at the Temple, nothing can replace the beauty of the stars.

“Ahsoka…” Obi-Wan starts to say but she shakes her head to stop him, she knows she needs to let go, it’s unhealthy to hold onto attachments. If she can’t let go and release her grief into the Force she knows it will only continue to cloud her judgment. A Jedi so close to her trials to become a knight should know better, but it still hurts so much.

“I know Master Kenobi, I have let him go, I am no longer aggrieved by his memory. Still, it does not mean that I do not miss him.” She says softly.

He had been her Master for three years, they weren’t always great times they had their fights and arguments, but he cared for her with an intensity of a thousand suns. He believed in her when she didn’t believe in herself. He knew how to connect with her, as he was barely an adult by the time she became his padawan. At 19 years old and just newly knighted, Anakin Skywalker had found himself saddled with a feisty 14-year-old Togruta. She laughs at the memory of their first meeting, while she had been affronted and furious at his rejection, she knows the man had to be panicking furiously in the moment.

Then only a month after her 17th birthday, they were sent on a simple negotiation mission to try and peacefully transfer power from the deceased king to each one of his children evenly. A mission that went so south so quickly.

“Trust me Ahsoka, I know your feelings as if they are my own, I will never stop missing Anakin. He was taken away from us far too early, but I can say that you carry his memory honourably and I couldn’t be more proud of you.” Obi-Wan says as he places a hand over her robotic one.

“Thank you Obi-Wan, I know Anakin didn’t always say it, but he loved you, he said you were the father he always wanted.” Ahsoka says and she can see how his eyes shine with unshed tears.

“We will visit him tomorrow, it will be a day just for Anakin.” Obi-Wan says with a small smile and he turns away to sniff softly.

“I’d like that, he’d like that.” Ahsoka says as tears trail down her cheeks, at 22 she would’ve been his age the day he died.

Caught in the blast of bomb powerful enough to topple an entire palace because one man wanted all the power his father could bestow, for himself. She had lost her arm, the same one Anakin had lost, under a mountain of rubble and hard, unforgiving steel. Ironically enough the rubble that had stolen her arm kept her from bleeding out. It would be several days later and several dips in a bacta tank until she could be conscious enough to hear from a distraught looking Obi-Wan that Anakin was dead. They never did find his body, even with the weeks of searching they never did. Eventually they had lay an empty coffin to rest, a few of possessions taking his place. Her biggest regret is that they never found his lightsaber, it was something that would leave her sobbing in a crumpled heap on the floor during that first year without him.

Her gold robotic arm shines dully in the neon city lights. She hopes he would’ve liked the craftmanship of it, she had poured hours into perfecting its design and engineering.

Anakin Skywalker may be dead be she will continue to honour his memory with her head held high, she will cherish his lessons and teachings until her last breath. She will show the galaxy who her Master was, she has healed enough to celebrate who the man was and all he stood for. Not only for herself, but for everyone Anakin wanted to help but never got to.

* * *

“ _Buir_ , it’s time. They’re waiting for you” Cody says and he sighs as his handmaidens straighten his robes, luxurious silks in rich blues, and reds all embroidered in gold. He hates them with a passion.

“Thank you, my son, better not keep them waiting.” Jango says with a tired smile.

He tries to force as much positivity into the smile but he knows by the way his oldest son looks at him, that it comes out more like a grimace than anything else.

“You don’t have to put on a brave face for me you know, I am not the audience, you don’t need to put a show on for me, everyone else is living this right next to you. We bleed with you, especially on this day.” Cody says earnestly and he falls easily into the arms on his oldest wearing similar robes in shades of gold and burnt yellow, like he is the sun itself.

Cody would make a fine ruler once his old and weary body gives out on him, probably an even better ruler, one that wouldn’t so readily lose his own ad.

“He would’ve been 24 today, my baby boy. I failed him, they took him away and I couldn’t bring him back.” Jango says, biting into his lip hard as he clutches at Cody’s robes. Strained sobs come from deep in his chest as they scrape past his clenched teeth.

“This failure is my own buir, I promised I would always protect him, we all did. However, I do know Rex would never blame us. Wherever he is, I know he will come back to us, I know he will. The dome is opening soon, everyone else is ready for you.” Cody says gently with a fierce conviction. He knows he can’t persuade his oldest to drop the blame of Rex’s disappearance more than Cody could convince Jango that he isn’t a failure of a father.

Three years ago, he had thought himself invincible and he foolishly allowed his rivals into his home, they repaid his hospitality by stealing his second youngest son away. In an attack far too coordinated to be anything but professionally planned they had sent his Mandalorian capital into chaos and had scooped Rex up in the confusion. By the time they had figured out what had happened, it was already too late.

The last time he had ever seen his son was him chained and looking terrified through a grainy holo as he pleaded to be let go. The image had played on repeat in his mind for months and had ripped sleep from him, day after day until his doctors had to forcibly sedate him.

The fact that he and Rex had gotten into a screaming match earlier in the day had only made the guilt more acidic as it ate through his heart. Boba would never know his older brother, Rex would never know the joys of watching his brothers coronation and _he had been useless as the Mand’alor._

As he walks through opulent halls lined by his trophies, he can see the night sky through the open balcony. He can see the beauty of a million stars shine down onto their city and he knows Rex is out there somewhere, he doesn’t know where, but he knows he’s there, trying to come home.

It was Fox’s idea to light a path for him, after a year had passed and Jango and drunken himself into a stupor the moment the sun had risen the day before Rex’s 21st life day. His white-haired son had forcibly dragged him out of bed and into his workshop.

Jango had been furious with Fox at first, angered that his son would dare interrupt his self pitying and grief. Furious that he would even think to stop his wallowing, until he had shown him Rex’s path home. Millions of electronic lanterns being released into the open air creating a shimmering path into the sky. Glowing and sparkling in a breathtaking dance until they gently disintegrated in the open vacuum of space.

 _“To help Rex find his way home.”_ Fox had said simply with tears in his own eyes and the realization was like a slap to the face harder than he’s ever felt in his life.

His sons had been suffering and he had been blind to it, caught up in his own grief and failings, so obsessed with one failure he was blindly failing his remaining sons.

He made a promise to himself that day. As he collapsed into Fox’s arms as tears flowed from his eyes, that he would be better for Mandalore, for his people, for his sons, no one would ever take anything from him ever again.

Now years later he stands on his palace balcony, with the solemn crowd holding their own lanterns, waiting below for him to give the signal.

His sons all stand at the railing holding their own lanterns, all stone faced and stoic, but he sees and knows the pain, he does.

Boba tugs on his robes and he doesn’t hesitate to pick up his youngest son as he clutches his own beautiful blue lantern. Jango walks to the edge like he always did during this day of the year and he nods to Boba.

“Let it go my son, let Rex know we are stillwaiting for him.” He whispers and Boba looks at him with his big brown eyes before he thrusts the lantern up in the air. His lonely lantern is soon followed by many more as they all rise together in waves of entrancing blue light to travel further and further away from the domed capital.

“Come home to us, my son. You are missed everyday.” Jango pleads, whispering it like prayer as he does every year waiting hopefully that one day Rex would come home.

* * *

Today is the day, he’s finally going to do it.

He’s marked out the entire palace and city below, he knows every single back alley and hole in the wall shop that the city has to offer. He won’t be a slave anymore, _he’ll be a run away slave_.

It’s been three years, three painfully long years and with everyday that he’s trapped in the palace as a house slave the more and more his heart aches to go home, to feel loved again. Fucking Vizsla, fucking Death Watch, they took that from him, took him away when Jango was foolish enough to trust him with access the palace. Even when it’s obvious to everyone but his buir that Tor Vizsla murdered ba'buir Mereel, _why would Pre Vizsla be any different?_

He had been sulking. Well, Cody called it sulking, he calls it deep thinking with a frown. He had been thinking with a frown, when Vizsla’s lackies had caught him off guard and drugged him with enough sedatives to leave him unconscious, until he woke up several days later at a slave auction.

The Ongree that had bought him is a slimy bastard often too drunk to even know what colour the sky is, though Rex has learned not to try his temper. Tajer Radora is a cruel and vindictive crime lord who is so deep in the pockets of the government he’s even gotten his own official title, _the Governor of Commerce_. Even if he knows the Abyssin that is always present at his shoulder is really the one running the crime ring on Dandoran.

But he has been good. He has bided his time and bitten his tongue to point of tasting blood so many times throughout his enslavement, that the drunken fool thinks he has finally beaten the tenacity out of him. He knows the scars the from the whips that have cracked against his back time and time again from the smallest misspoken words to refusing the Ongree’s advancements, will never heal. He will always bear the marks of a slave and it fuels his anger, fuels his need to escape.

With his patience over the past three years Radora is finally letting him out into the city to run an errand by himself, what the crime lord doesn’t know is that he’ll never be returning. He just needs to get past the massive Dashade guards that watch ever so vigilantly at the edge of the city.

He knows if he’s caught, he’s good as dead, they’ll either blow his body to bits or drag him back to face his punishment. Which will still be death, but a far more painful and humiliating one than the instant release of a blaster bolt to the head.

Dying is a release he has been denied many times during his enslavement, right when he thinks he may draw his last breath his captors draw him back to the land of the living, kicking and screaming to draw out his pitiful existence.

However, there is much more terrifying fate in store for him if Radora choses not to kill him. He wouldn’t put it past the Ongree to sell him to one of the Hutts as a measure of good faith if he’s caught. While his current Master may not know who he is, there is no denying that a Hutt would. Jango is known all throughout the galaxy and he knows it’s only a matter of time before someone figures out why he looks so much like the King of the Mandalorian Empire.

A apart of him wonders if he should bring any of the other slaves with him, but he instantly puts the breaks on that line of thinking and he stops so hard, he can almost hear the gears in his head squeal to halt like a material transport grinding to a halt on it’s tracks.

There is no lost love between him and the other slaves in the palace, they’re all far too comfortable living as pets in the lap of Radora. They enjoyed or tolerated living their lives as trophies only meant to be dressed up and shown off at parties of the elite, only to fall to their knees behind closed doors. They despised him and his rebelliousness, anyone who he had liked are long gone. Either sold off or swept away by their own white knights in shinning armour, deep in the night to never return. He hates them too, for leaving him here alone, while they live the life he so desperately wants.

But now it would be him who is going to be his own white knight, he is a warrior of Mandalore, he doesn’t need saving.

All he has to do is make it to the next corner and run like his ass is on fire without looking back. The guard should be switching their posts within the minute and he knows that he’ll have a time frame of only a few minutes to disappear into the swamp just south of the city limits.

_He’s going to make it._

A heavy hand falls onto his shoulder and the cold hand squeezes him hard enough that his collar bone creaks, he doesn’t grimace in pain as he turns to see who is ruining his escape plan.

“Oh Rex, I was hoping to run into you out here, I know Master Radora wanted to catch you to add a few last-minute things.” Abulon says smarmily and he feels himself pale, Rex has always been unnerved by the Abyssin.

Some days he is far more terrifying than Radora could ever hope to be, with his clinical and cool regard for life and ever incessant need for wealth. He had seen the one eyed man rip a Twi’lek child from her mother because he knew, that with the child’s exotic colouring she would fetch a high price on the slave market.

Abulon makes him sick to his stomach.

“He has my comm code, he can contact me any time Master Abulon.” Rex says with his head bowed, he needs to get rid of the man as soon as possible, he’s running out of time.

“But you left you comm back at the palace, I have it right here. Strange isn’t it? Why would you leave the palace to go shopping but be in the southern quarter of the city without your comm? I would think you know by now that the market is in the eastern quarter.” Abulon says with a smirk.

All his instincts scream at him to _run_ , they wail that the man knows that he’s trying to escape.

“My apologies Master Abulon, it seems I was lost in thought and wandered too far.” Rex says tightly, forcing his body to remain docile as possible in an attempt to look scolded.

“Oh, but you were never planning to go to the market today, were you? You’re smart boy, I’ll give you that but not smart enough, guards! Master Radora’s house slave is trying to escape! I want him back, dead or alive!” Abulon barks into his commlink and Rex has a moment to be stunned speechless before the loud wail of the city-wide siren starts to blare out of every street corner speaker.

He doesn’t say anything to the advisor before he shoves him to the ground, he probably looks as heartbroken and betrayed as Abulon wanted him to be. He runs through the city like a mad man, shoving past shouting citizens as he feels the pounding of the guards running after him against the wet pavement.

The rain early in the morning had made the stone roads slick and difficult to run along, he almost loses his balance a few times as several guards make a swipe at him.

Blood pounds through his veins as he pushes his body to go faster, he can feel the rhythmic thumping of the jugular arteries in his neck. He ignores the burning agony that his side becomes when a hail of bolts rain down on him in a fiery red haze as he runs through the southern exit.

He also ignores the pain in his ankle as another bolt singes his skin.

He runs and runs and runs until his vision goes spotty with pain and he’s deep within the dark, murky swamp. Three bolt wounds let blood flow freely out of his body and into the muddy ground. He still needs to get his tracking collar off or all his effort will be for nothing. He needs to bandage and treat his wounds before he bleeds out, he needs to keep moving but as he limps along his vision gets foggier and foggier. Foggier, until the world spins around him and his face lands on hard wet ground, jarring the rest of his conscious thoughts out of his body.

* * *

_Anakin…._

_Master…!_

_I love you Ani…._

_Get back!_

**_I won’t leave you!_ **

He jerks awake with a gasp, his mind grips the tail end of his nightmare as if begging him to hold onto the disjointed memories, screaming at him that they are important. But like everything else the terrifying, disjointed memories of pain and fear slip away like oil on water.

Something had ripped him from the nightmare, no, not something, _someone_. Someone has stumbled or trespassed into his swamp, upsetting the delicate balance he has perfected over the years.

No one who has a decent head on their shoulders travels into the swamp, he on the other hand, has known no other way of life since he woke up deep in the murky forest years ago. The plants listen to him and he to them. He is their protector, and they give him the gift of food and shelter while the civilians tremble in fear at the sight of the looming swamp that sits just outside one of their great big cities.

He has ventured there once or twice and wasn’t impressed by their filth, the city oozed corruption and he would have no part of their self made destruction. He is a myth, a monster that hides under the bed and keeps anyone far, far away. Until now it seems.

He shoves off his thick blankets and rolls out of bed, it is time to see to his newest disturbance. He calls his cloak to his hand and throws it over his shoulders, from what he can feel it is not a volatile threat or even a dangerous one. The presence lays stagnant and docile, flickering gently against his mind so he doesn’t bother any of his protective gear . By the smell hanging in the air a heavy rain would be due soon, again, within the hour at least so there isn’t a point in ruining his clothes when we won’t need them.

He walks through his dwelling faster than necessary but something about the presence pushes him to go faster, to rush out the door and find whoever is disrupting his peace.

The swamp is beautiful as ever when he slams out of the door. The lush greenery mixes with the heady smell of upturned dirt and stagnant water. The flowers bloom in beautiful vibrant colours that glow softly and a cool breeze blows past the trees with the promise of rain as the crisp blue sky is slowly eaten by the dark low hanging clouds.

The mid day sunlight lists through the canopy and splatters the ground with patches of warmth. Even if the swamp is completely undisturbed, he can smell the faint smell of blood, he can feel pain against his mind like it is his own and it presses on him uncomfortably.

He walks and walks and walk, it takes longer than he likes to get to the trespasser, like chasing a ghost in a maze of mirrors. Every time he feels like he’s getting closer the presence directs him in a different direction.

Finally, finally he sees someone, covered in mud and blood, face down a soft patch of moss. His right leg is bent at an awful angle and he doesn’t need to look twice to know that the bone is probably, most definitely broken. He can also see the thick slave collar around his neck and a rage so strong and vicious almost crushes his heart as it tries to climb up his esopoghase. Instead, since he is a mature grown man, he takes a deep calming breath and lets it out after several counts. After, when he feels moderately calm after a few minutes, he uses his power to crush the collar until it sparks and creaks, before it splits into two pieces.

The man’s injuries bleed sluggishly into his gold tunic and he knows he can’t leave him here, his power whispers to him that the man is important, special.

He rolls the man over and while he knows for fact that his face heats with a blush at the sight of the ruggedly handsome human, no one is around to acknowledge it, so he won’t either. The man in simple terms, is quite stunning with his strikingly blonde hair and warm brown skin. He wraps his injuries the best he can and bundles the man into his arms to carry him back to his house, he freezes when the man mutters something before frowning and burrowing himself deeper into his bare chest.

He curses his own powers, sure they told him the man was special, but they couldn’t even spare a moment to let him know that he is also probably, the best looking man he has seen in years.


	2. It's Always a Call

Mandalore.

It’s always Mandalore, he will admit he is not a perfect Jedi, he’s probably more flawed than anyone else on the Council, none of them seem to struggle with attachment like he does. He can’t help but have his heart on his sleeve, the Jedi who loves too much, that’s him.

Yoda probably has a tally of how many star-crossed lovers he’s had, he probably deserves the gentle mockery. It’s not like the ancient Jedi Master has a planet that everyone knows to be the one where he had a romance with the young Duchess, like they had pulled it right out of a romance novel. They fell in love as bounty hunters chased them across the desert planes of the planet, it’s ridiculously corny.

He wonders where she is now, their parting had been a bittersweet one, even as teenagers they knew where they stood in the world as Duchess and Jedi. They knew that they were never meant to be when they had pledged themselves to their duties. A tale as told as time, a romance that could have never been no matter how much or how hard they loved.

It has been so long, not even the Jedi could predict what would become of the war-torn planet so close to falling apart at the seems. With how everyone seemed to hate each other so viciously, the planet’s soil seemed to radiate hate and anger.

To have a young bounty hunter raise the Dark Saber and unite his people and usurp a family who has been ruling for generations with a simple conviction and desire to conquer. Jango Fett singlehandedly rose to power and the people followed him like a messiah.

A messiah he was, never in his life had he seen an empire grow so quickly. The control he spread was so all encompassing it was hard to even say when each planet had decided to split from the Republic, to join the Mandalorian Empire.

He has met Jango once, a man with 8 sons and plenty of hatred for the Jedi, but he still can’t help feel fascinated by the man even if he did try and blow his brains out in their one encounter.

He would’ve never thought that such a volatile man would be able to maintain a steady reign of power over an empire consisting of several hundred planet, but he did and did it fairly. Jango Fett is a forbidden puzzle cube that Obi-Wan desperately wants to get his hands on and solve, he gets a thrill knowing that Jango would meet him blow for blow.

Maybe he could even get the man to indulge in another kind of blow-

It’s been too long since he’s gotten laid.

Maybe he could become a wandering Jedi like Qui-Gon had been once Ahsoka completes her trials, he’s not getting any younger and he has shoved aside his own feelings for so long and he is so tired.

To go where the force directs may finally give him a sense of freedom and peace he has been craving ever since Anakin was crushed to death. He hasn’t know true inner tranquility since he took on the role of Master to an angry teenager mad at the world and everyone in it to the point where he saw the veins of yellow start to flash through her eyes. Any sense was wiped away when had realized he also had a grieving, heavily pregnant widowed senator to support as well.

He’s not going to lie to himself and say he wasn’t furious with Anakin when he died so suddenly and without warning. He left him to hold up the weight of the world, only now after five years the weight may be smaller, not as crushing, but he feels how it drags him down, he does.

If it hadn’t been for Plo and Shakk Ti or Mace he isn’t sure he would’ve survived the first year. But he’s glad he did because now Luke and Leia are five and he cannot picture a world without them.

He loves them like he loved Anakin, they are different reflections of his former apprentice and he knows they make the world a little better, a little less painful.

A call comes in when he’s watching them for Padme, as she goes off another one of her peace outreach missions to planets suffering under the reign of the newest warlord where he cannot come with her. Places where the Jedi wouldn’t be welcomed.

It’s always a call.

A man who is the spitting image of Jango pops up in the holo call, he has a winding scar down one side of his face and his armour is painted a beautiful burnt yellow onto crisp white beskar plates.

“Are you Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi?” The man asks.

“Yes, to whom am I speaking too? How did you get this frequency?” He asks suspiciously and he makes sure to keep Luke and Leia out of frame.

“Cody Fett, the first prince of the Mandalorian Empire, how I got this frequency is of no consequence to you, I simply asked Governor Kryze of Concord Dawn. I am calling because I need your help.” Cody states pleadingly and it gives Obi-Wan pause.

Mandalorians don’t make a habit of asking for help, especially not from Jedi.

“I’m not quite sure I understand, if there is a conflict between the Empire and it’s aligned planets I’m not how much I can do to help, your father had banned Jedi from almost all his planets.” Obi-Wan reminds him.

“My father is a stubborn ass. We have arrested the perpetrators who sold my younger brother into slavery three years ago, I want Jedi to over see their trial, I know my family will not be able to hand out fair judgment and the traitors know this as well. They are hoping to shake the Empire’s faith in Jango, so that’s why I am asking you to over see the trial as a neutral party.” Cody says and Obi-Wan hides his winces behind his hand as he strokes his chin.

“When is this trial?” Obi-Wan asks, this could be an opportunity to bridge the gap between the Empire and the Jedi for good.

“In a month time, I wanted to give you enough time for consideration and travel.” Cody says, the boy is wickedly smart, Obi-Wan is already impressed.

“Very well Cody, I accept your terms, I am going to bring this to the Council’s attention and be in touch with you soon.” Obi-Wan says and Cody smiles slightly.

“Thank you, Master Jedi, your help is very much appreciated, I will deal with my father upon your arrival.” Cody says before ending the connection.

_Sneaky little shit isn’t he._

“Well you two looks like I’m going back to Mandalore .” Obi-Wan says to the twins as they start to bombard him with questions.

_I hope Bail doesn’t mind babysitting._

* * *

Rex groans, his body feels like he’s gone three rounds with Cody after a fight with Wolffe and then like he let Boba practice a chokehold on him.

He’s really got to stop walking up in pain with no memory of the night before, Jango would be disappointed if he got beat up at a cantina, a place he really wasn’t supposed to be at to begin with as the 7th prince of Mandalore.

But as he opens his eyes and sees a ceiling covered in moss with vines that flower a beautiful purple, he knows he isn’t on Mandalore, he hasn’t been in a long, long time.

He ran away, he managed to escape Radora’s palace and the city but he had been shot, three times. The bolts had made it hard to focus as he fled with his life, he remembers falling and a crippling pain in his leg. But he also remembers warmth, how he had felt a certain serenity deep within his own unconsciousness.

Whoever had pulled is bleeding body out of the mud had bandaged him with a some measure of skill, he didn’t feel hot or feverish with a fever so the person who saved him knows what they were doing, the harder step after being injured is making sure the infection doesn’t kill you. His leg has been splinted and heavily bandaged, he must have broken it in the fall.

Whoever is saviour isn’t in the house now, it looks like they have hollowed out one of the larger trees in the swamp but still somehow managed to keep it alive, interesting.

There’s a cloak thrown over him and it smells heady like fresh rain and pollen, it almost looks like Jedi’s clock but it’s long past its due date. The fabric is worn and tattered but soft to the touch like it is well loved.

The longer he stays awake the more questions he has, Radora and his men will march on the swamp eventually, his collar may be gone but he knows the slimy bastard wouldn’t stop at only the edge of the swamp. They’ll continue to hunt him until they either drag him back screaming and kicking or as a carcass to send Jango just to taunt him.

But he won’t let that happen. He’ll escape, he’ll survive.

He slowly wiggles his fingers and toes, his injuries ache but for now he doesn’t have any spinal damage, he can still move which is a blessing. He pushes his body into a sitting position, as he joints creak, his muscles feel more like brittle bark than solid Mandalorian muscles.

He grits his teeth against the uncomfortable sensations. He may be a slave, but he is still a Fett.

A Fett doesn’t quit at a minor convenience.

“Oh, you’re awake, I was getting worried there for a while.” A man with melodic timber for a voice says from behind him and Rex doesn’t jerk at his sudden appearance.

“Did…you save me?” Rex stutters sounding like fool and he can hear his brothers laughing at him.

Of course, of course his saviour would be someone who has just walked off a holo shoot, he silently rages against his body as he feels heat rise to his cheeks.

Fetts don’t blush! They don’t!

The man is all broad muscled shoulders leading to a trim waist topped off with wild brown hair and probably the bluest eyes he has ever seen.

“Yes, you looked like you could use the help. It’s been three days since I found you face down in the swamp. I’m guessing you ran from the city? Don’t worry about them, I’ve asked the swamp to block any more intruders from coming in.” The man says.

 _Well he’s either crazy or all powerful, I just hope he’s friendly_. Rex thinks as he tries to keep his eyes on the man as he putters around the house.

“I’m plenty friendly.” The man says somewhat affronted.

“You’re a Jedi?” Rex says gobsmacked, he doesn’t know any other being that would have such an acute telepathic ability and the man doesn’t look Mirialan or Umbaran, not in the slightest.

“What’s a Jedi?” The man asks confusedly before he hands Rex a cup of water.

“You know mystic, religious order of telepaths and telekinetic who wield laser swords. They wear robes?” Rex tells him but the blank uncomprehending expression never leaves his face.

“I’ve never heard of such a people.” He responds but then he grimaces and shakes his head.

“What do you call yourself then? Rex asks, if he isn’t a Jedi what else could he be?

“I call myself Anakin, nothing more nothing less. I don’t know if I have the power you speak so highly of all I know is that the swamp listens to my commands.” Anakin says before he takes a sip of his own water satchel.

_So maybe not a Jedi? Maybe a forest fae?_

“How long have you been here for?” Rex asks, the man is more willing to talk then anyone back in the palace and Rex enjoys his company.

“Five years, if I have been following the Planet’s calendar correctly, what about you? You’re no native of this planet. In fact, I don’t even know the name of the man I saved.” Anakin says.

“Uh It’s Pre, Pre Vizsla.” Rex lies, guilt singes through him but he knows he can’t exactly go around giving his name to strangers. He must protect his identity until he can find a ship and make it off the planet.

Anakin hums like he doesn’t believe him, he probably doesn’t.

“Well Pre Vizsla, I’ll keep you safe until you can go on your way, I hope you don’t mind sharing a bed, I only have the one.” Anakin replies and Rex huffs a laugh.

“As long as I get to be the little spoon you have a deal.” Rex tells him cheekily.

“That can be arranged.” Anakin says equally cheekily before he struts out of the house and into the world outside.

He can hear Boba ask how long it will take him to try and fuck his saviour this time, he already knows it won’t be long even if he does flip off his imaginary brother.


	3. Never Trust A Fool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screaming and shaking over the response, I'm glad you guys are liking this so much, it's super fun to write!
> 
> Also I changed around the ages, Rex is going to be 22 now not 23/24. 
> 
> For reference, Cody - 27, Ponds - 26, Bly - 25, Gree -25, Fox - 24 , Wolffe - 23, Rex - 22, Boba - 13

“Can you help me with this?” Boba asks him as he struggles with the clasp on his vambrace. The armour feels small in his hand but somehow as it makes Boba seem incredibly young, it makes him feel incredibly old at the same time.

He remembers being a much younger boy and holding his brother for the first time, he had been the first on Jango’s sons and he had been about 14 when Boba had been a mere few months old. He remembers the joy and wonder he had felt as Jango had passed the swaddled infant to him with a complicated expression on his face. He didn’t understand why his father hadn’t smiled as he held Boba for the first few months, but 13 years later and now at 27 he understands.

He and his brothers had never had a relationship with their mother. It no longer pains him to think about how he had stayed awake night after night, hoping that his mother would come in one night with her sweet smile and kiss him lovingly on the cheek as she promised to stay this time.

The sting of disappointment had dulled over the years, why Jango had fallen in love with Kamina he’ll never understand. Cody wonders when their relationship had changed from a dazzling fantasy to a distant and cold transaction.

While he would like to hope the woman isn’t as selfish as what her actions have led to him to believe, he knows that his mother is a cold and calculating woman, a bounty hunter in every sense of the world who thrived off attention and desire directed at her. She had been jealous of how Jango loved his sons, she had wanted his love all to herself. To her Jango was more a prize than a partner and that may have worked when they were young, but Jango had bigger roles to fill and his life of adventure and violence had been swapped for a domestic life of diplomacy.

They must have tried to make it work but when he had been 6 months old, she left after she realized that she did not love him. She had come back 7 more times and Jango had opened his arms each time, over worked and desperately hoping that it wouldn’t end in heart break again.

He had been his father’s number one helper once he was old enough to look after his brothers, he had seven of them so the pain of their neglectful mother had never stayed for long and when Jango wasn’t working his love for them was as powerful as 1000 suns.

Boba had been a surprise, she had been gone for so long Cody had started to believe he would never see her face again but she had come back for another passionate fling. Only to leave a year later without the baby boy she had given birth to.

“Does your undersuit feel okay? Not too tight?” Cody ask as he latches Boba’s vambraces, he would choose his secondary colour soon but for now his beskar gleamed a pure white, shiny and new just like he is as he starts his journey to become a Mandalorian warrior.

The white plates contrast sharply against the black undersuit and he briefly wonders what colour he’ll chose in the next few years. The royal blue that Rex had donned proudly had been permanently retired, no Mandalorian with a hint of pride would ever wear the and blue and white combination ever again.

“It feels okay...kinda weird like I’m wearing a glove but just for my whole body.” Boba responds as he shrugs his shoulders.

“You’ll get used to it, I promise.” Cody replies as he fastens the cape over his shoulder that proudly bares their Clan sigil. He looks so much like Rex when he had helped him into his first beskar that he almost breaks down.

But he doesn’t, he is destined to be the next in line as the Mand’alor he has to be strong for his youngest brother, who had been far too young to be so scared after Rex had been ripped away from them. He had slept on the floor of Boba’s room night after night hoping that maybe the boy wouldn’t wake up screaming from another nightmare, begging for Rex to come home.

An eleven-year old should never know that kind of terror and he will never forgive Clan Vizsla for what they have done to his family.

“Do you ever think Rex will come home? It’s been so lone since he’s been gone….I just thought that maybe he would be home already.” Boba mumbles and Cody runs a hand through his brown hair, it was on the verge of becoming unruly in length, but it somehow suits Boba’s free spirit.

“I know vod’ika, I miss him too but if I know Rex, he’s out there somewhere trying to come back to us, we must trust him and his Mand’o spirit.” Cody says and he takes Boba’s hand as he holds it out expectantly, it is time they pay their respects to his brother’s tomb.

It is still early enough in the morning for the others to be asleep, he’ll have his time to mourn with them in their own, personal and private ways, but for now Boba needs him. He would tend to each one of his brothers, he always did, Jango and his brothers are all the family he has.

“Come, it will take less time if we take my swoop bike out to the tomb.” Cody says and Boba nods in understanding.

“When can I get my own swoop bike?” Boba asks plaintively.

“When you can ride a normal bike without crashing it.” He replied with a smirk as Boba pouts and mumbles something that sounds like _‘it was only one time’_.

The last resting place for the honoured leaders of Mandalore sits in between dunes of white sand and low beneath the surface, he knows that one day he will be paraded to the very same place once his old and decrepit body has given out on him.

No body lays in Rex’s place of worship, only empty armour lays in the lonely dark cavern, collecting dust as days continue to pass, its use long having been expired.

He revs the engine of his gold bike and he smiles at Boba’s giddy yip of excitement, they weave through the city until they burst onto the sun-bleached deserts of his beloved, yet somewhat ugly planet.

Only appearing barren to hide the true riches of his planet, inhospitably kept unsavoury characters away, and that’ just how he liked it.

“Hey Cody, can you tell me another story about Rex?” Boba asks suddenly after being quiet for a long-weighted moment.

“Sure, I think I have a good one, did I ever tell you the time me and Rex met the Talz on Orto Plutonia?” Cody asks.

“What? No! what were they like?” Boba asks rapidly and he has to bite back a chuckle.

While that mission had infuriated him to no end and had almost started an all-out war. He adores the confident young Pantoran Senator that had brokered peace between her people and the Talz after the massive mess the chairman had made of things.

“Dad had sent me with Rex and the snow stompers to investigate an attack on a Pantoran military base, and let me tell you I had to stop Rex from killing the chairman every 5 seconds….” Cody starts.

_Several years earlier..._

_“I have an idea!” Rex exclaims as he trudges through the snow to stand next to Cody._

_“No, you don’t.” Cody replies not even looking up from his data pad._

_“You haven’t even heard what I was going to say.” Rex whines as he kicks at the snow._

_“Because I already know what you’re going to say, and no killing the chairman and promoting the Senator wouldn’t solve our problems with the Talz.” Cody says with a heavy sigh._

_“C’mon Codes you know that Senator Riyo Chuchi should be the one leading this mission not that trigger-happy egoist who has a sprinkle of Pantoran supremacy in him.” Rex says waving a hand over to Chairman Cho’s back as he huddles with his guard in a childish display of exclusion._

_“Of course, I know but Jango sent us as a show of good faith and security while they fussed over an attack, this man came here to fight, it doesn’t matter to him that the Talz have ruled these lands for centuries. He’s completely unaware that he’s the intruder.” Cody responded, shivering slightly in his own cold gear._

_“Well, it looks like he’s gearing up for a final assault, bet dad’s bottle of brandy that he gets himself killed?” Rex asks teasingly._

_“…Deal, now c’mon let’s go be the ‘hired muscle’ this guy thinks we are.” Cody says sarcastically, the disrespect makes him bitter, they had introduced themselves as the Princes of Mandalore along with their honoured guard. Yet the man thinks them to be no more than common thugs._

_Later he had hovered over the Pantoran doctor who was suturing Rex’s wound, but had eventually been kicked out because of his menacing presence spooking the rest of the doctors and nurses. They scuttled around him like he would lash out and reign terror down on the hospital. He might’ve, if Rex had been injured any worse than the gash he had gotten from protecting the Chairman, who had been killed by his own hubris._

_He also lost the bottle of brandy that **he** was going to drink to the bet._

_“Prince Fett? I would like formally thank and apologize on behalf of Pantora, Chairman Cho was out of line and your brother was injured because of it. None the less we are eternally grateful for your help and we hope to continue our allyship with the Mandalorian Empire.” The young woman says to him with a slight bow and he is already smitten with her._

_The woman has grit._

_“You have my thanks Senator Chuchi, I commend your bravery and diplomacy, I look forward to working with you in the future to better the lives of our citizens.” Cody says with a bow of his own and she smiles before walking away to return her own work, he wonders if they will worship Cho like a hero or quietly burry him to be forgotten._

“Cho sounds like a fool.” Boba says over the sound of the roaring wind.

“He was indeed, but still dangerous. Remember to never underestimate a fool as they are often being manipulated behind the scene by a much more powerful hand, or they may use stupidity as a ruse, always be vigilant in the galaxy.” Cody replies, he had taught the same lesson to Rex when head been the same age.

He knows sooner or later he’ll have to stop lying to himself, his brother is dead, but it hurts less to hold onto hope.

* * *

“Stay still, if you keep moving, I’m going to pinch you.” Barriss scolds lightly as she gently clips the delicate silver circlets around her back lekku.

She hadn’t been able to reach and after pinching herself more than once she had become frustrated and grew close to throwing the offending thing on the ground. But Barriss had put a gentle hand on her should and had taken the jewelry from her hands before clipping it in place around her white and blue appendages.

“It tickles, I can’t help it.” Ahsoka says with a huff as she looks at herself in the mirror, she looks old. Older than what she should be at 22.

The black robes sit heavily on her shoulders, but she knows they weigh the exact same as her red one. After Anakin had died, she had felt childish in her backless dress attire that she had been so proud of when she had first gotten it as a rebellious 16-year-old. The flimsy and gaping material had remined her of how vulnerable she is when she wore them, the scars along her back serve as a reminder.

In her haste to angrily throw away her dress she had almost thrown away her clan’s sash and it was only after Barriss had found her a blubbering mess, not dignified of Jedi on the floor that the Mirialan woman had calmly pulled the lavender sash from the trash shoot. She knew she loved her long-time friend in that moment, her broken heart yearned for her just as it did before Anakin died.

Her heart mended a little bit when Barriss and reciprocated her confession of love, she had helped her along with Obi-Wan to get her new red attire crafted, proper Jedi robes, they shouted that she was no longer a child meant to be underestimated.

But today, in her day of mourning she mirrors what her old Master used to wear, his black and maroon colours seem to make her small. Like a child playing dress up in their parent’s wardrobe, desperately trying to be like them.

“Ahsoka are you in here?” Obi-Wan says as he knocks on her door.

“Come in Master Kenobi.” Ahsoka replies smiling softly when she sees her Master in his usual beige robes but donning the cloak Anakin had gotten him years ago. He had gotten it for his old Master as a joke, but Obi-Wan still held onto the black and gold cloak even if had never touched the colour in his life.

“Padawan Offee a pleasure as usual to see you, may I steal Ahsoka away if you are done with her?” Obi-Wan asks after he gives her a bow.

“She’s all yours Master Kenobi, my Master are being sent on an assignment so it’s about time I meet her for our departure.” Barriss says as she gracefully picks herself off the ground.

“The may the Force be with you and your Master, padawan.” Obi-wan says with a smile.

“To you and Ahsoka as well Master.” She replies before shooting a smile at Ahsoka.

“Comm me when you reach planet side.” Ahsoka says before she departs completely from her dorm room. The ‘so I know you’re safe’ goes unsaid but not unheard.

“I will.” Barriss says reassuringly before she disappears completely.

There’s an awkward silence as Obi-Wan continues to stare her down with a wary gaze.

“What is it?” She asks confusedly.

“Please don’t marry Barriss secretly anytime soon, I’m pretty sure I gave Anakin the attachment over duty talk at least 200 hundred times yet he still somehow managed to start a family with Senator Amidala.” Obi-Wan says as he heaves a heavy sigh and Ahsoka snorts a laugh.

“Do not fear Master Kenobi, we do not love selfishly, the Order will always be our first priority.” Ahsoka says as she pats him reassuringly.

“I also doubt the physics of creating a baby between myself and Barriss.” She says with a laugh and Obi-Wan stutters out a sound of surprise as he burns with a blush.

“No need to feel embarrassed Master, we all know about your relationship with Govern Kryze of Concord Dawn.” She says slyly and he impossibly, burns redder.

“Speaking of her actually…” He starts but now it is Ahsoka’s time to groan while he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t worry padawan I will spare you the details of our love affair, This is more of a Jango Fett problem, his eldest son contacted me to ask if could oversee a trial and with how you have been progressing as a Jedi I feel like this mission could the first step in starting your knight trials.” Obi-Wan says for too casually for what he is suggesting.

“Really?” She askes, floundering for a proper response.

“Of course Ahsoka, you have been through many battles during your time as a Jedi, the Council and I agree that overseeing a trial and mending a long broken allyship will prove you are ready for the responsibilities of a Jedi Knight.” Obi-Wan explains.

Anakin would be over the moon to hear that she is ready for her Knight trials, she will prove his pride in her is not misplaced.

“Thank you, Master Kenobi, I know I became your padawan under trying times but I never once regretted my lessons under you, even if I wasn’t the best padawan.” She admits sheepishly.

“I will never hold your emotions against you Ahsoka, I probably couldn’t have been the easiest Master to handle, we came together under a time of duress but your have thrived beyond anyone’s expectations. You have become the competent young woman Anakin always thought you would.” Obi-Wan says and tears leak out of her eyes as she throws herself into his arms in the middle of the Temple hallway.

“Would you like to come have dinner with the twins and Padmé tonight? Luke and Leia have been dying to see you.” Obi-Wan whispers against her montrals and she subtly nods her head. She grips the black and gold fabric a little harder, burrowing herself a little deeper into Obi-Wan’s chest.

 _Stay, just a little longer, like this. Please?_ Her heart seems to say and Obi-Wan silently embraces her tighter

_Of course, my dear._


	4. So He's a Prince?

_A prince shouldn’t smell this bad….and my leg is itchy, a broken leg can’t get infected right? What if mud got into my leg through osmosis…Really, osmosis? **Shhhh Fox** I’m thinking, I need to know if mud particles are rotting my leg off and making it itchy._

Anakin bites his lip to keep himself from laughing, the man is thinking so loudly he doesn’t even need to call upon his powers to look into his mind. He can hear the silent debate he’s having with himself as the man’s head is pillowed on his arm.

However, he has lost all sensation in his limb sometime during the night and the sun is already on its way to climbing high in the sky and he does have his own tasks to tend to. But something keeps him in bed with the man even as the sun calls to him to rise and tend to his home.

The night’s rainstorm has made the air thick as it circulates through his tree. It sooths the distant and foggy memory of sand scraping over his skin as relentless winds pushed him across the barren landscape. His past self had the intrinsic knowledge that the person who sent him out here didn’t expect him to survive to see the next day. The past version of himself adventured into the desert because he didn’t have a choice, staying and disobeying meant pain for….the memory fogs and distorts the more he tries to focus on it.

There’s a woman, a tired and beaten down one but still kind and loving with a smile as beautiful as any starry night. He knows he loves her, but he doesn’t know why or who she is.

_Also._

The escaped slave is **a prince** , Anakin knew from the moment the man’s ‘name’ was stuttered out that it wasn’t the man’s real name. While he doesn’t particularly like being lied to, it’s the entire reason he lives alone in the middle of an ominous swamp instead being called by a need to connect with civilization, he can live out people.

Technically he prefers it, the forest never lies to him, people on the other hand, especially those from the filthy city won’t event think twice about lying to his face to scam themselves into a better standard of living. He despises them and their pathetic ingrained desire for wealth and power.

He knows most would return a runaway slave back to the capital without a hint of concern just to fill their wallets further, slave hunting ran a high price on the planet. He has seen the heavy traffic of boxy ships he has come to know has the trader and slaver ships travel in and out of the capital city, he knows that the planet’s economy thrives off the use of slaves.

Being a prince from some far-off land probably made the dozing man a priceless object, while he doesn’t need to prove himself to anyone, especially not to a man he saved from certain death. He would show then man that he isn’t just another conniving hunter looking to make a quick buck by turning him in, the kind that would enjoy watching hang by the rafters in the middle of the city.

Maybe before their time was up the man could trust him to reveal his true identity. For all he knows this Pre Viszla character could be a foe long vanquished by the man’s own hands, a myth of a warrior from long ago or even a very real enemy.

He doesn’t have enough information to know for sure. For now, he will keep the man’s secret to himself, there is no need to cause more duress for the man who has already probably been through more than enough in the past few days. He knows no one becomes a slave willingly, he also knows it takes a lot of trauma to have such thick scar tissue.

The knowledge that the man is a runaway slave brings up uncomfortable memories of the sand and the burning sun, he has to distract himself so the memories can fade into a blessedly blurry haze.

“Vizsla, it’s time to rise. I have things I must attend to.” Anakin says as he shakes the man, he snorts and grunts at him sleepily as he tries to blink away the last few strings of peaceful sleep.

“What time is it?” He mumbles as he slowly sits up and pulls away from Anakin’s chest, he doesn’t focus on how he misses the heat of the man’s skin.

“About mid morning, I was going to prepare breakfast before going to down to the river to check on the wildlife and I was wondering if you wanted to join me?” He asks innocently enough, as to not tip off the man that he has been listening in on his sleepy inner monologue about how desperately he wants to bathe.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a chance to wash the city stench off?” He adds, shooting the man a sly look as he blushes.

“Please? If I won’t be any trouble? I can help make breakfast.” The prince responds.

“I don’t want you straining yourself, your leg is still very much broken.” Anakin replies, the prince huffs and pouts as he wiggles his toes on his broken leg.

“Anything I can do to help while sitting down?” He tries again and Anakin takes pity on him, he knows the frustration of being made helpless by an injury.

He also knows that a slave doesn’t build muscles like the thick slabs that cover the man’s body. Wherever he came from, he hadn’t gone about his days laying about and being waited on by his many servants, this man is used to a life in motion.

“Are you familiar with how to make porridge?” Anakin asks and he has to bite his cheek to keep himself from laughing again as the prince squawks in indignation.

“Of course, I do, if I didn’t my brothers would never let me live it down.” He grumbles and Anakin huffs a laugh of his own.

The word brother invokes memories of a man with red hair and kind blue eyes 10 years his senior, holding him tightly in a hug as he sobs his heart into his shoulder. Who was he? The memories were coming more frequently, more urgently in the past month, flickers of his past? Flashes of the people his past self once knew?

 _My dear child, I will show you in time._ A voice whispers to him and he has to try his best to reign in his anger to not rage at the melodic voice. A voice that feels like sunlight on his skin, like a brush of fresh breeze thick with morning dew.

He knows he can’t be angry with something that he knows is only trying to help him, he can’t force himself to remember what was lost. The fear of regaining his memories only to remember that he had been a monster in his past life is a vicious and terrifying reality to him. Just being Anakin allows him to be a good person, when he is alone in the swamp, he has no one to disappoint or hurt.

“You’ll have to tell me about them sometime, I’m going to make sure you weren’t followed, I will be back shortly, the swamp will protect you while I’m gone.” Anakin says as he ties his robes tightly around his waist, he doesn’t miss the wandering gaze of the prince in his care and it stirs something hungry and possessive in his chest.

 _The prince is his_ , a darker part of himself seems to whisper, he ignores it as he closes the door behind him.

He has work to do.

* * *

“Master, I thank you for meeting with me on such short notice, I have news that I think would be of great interest to here.” Obi-Wan says as he shifts in his council chair, all eleven eyes are on him and he wonders how they would react.

The Jedi and Mandalorians have a jaded history and some scars are still very present in some of them. Forgiveness hasn’t come so quickly to many and he understands that he must tread very carefully, choose his words wisely if he is going to be approved for this mission.

“Your judgement has never been wrong before Obi-Wan, we would like to here what you have to say.” Mace says and he nods at his old friend.

“I received a transmission from the first prince of Mandalore two rotations ago-” Obi-Wan starts and he can feel the room’s atmosphere flip from curious to hostile the moment the words leave his mouth.

“The Mandalorians are our enemy, his father has made communication prohibited between his empire and the Jedi for decades, why would he be contacting you now?” Eeth Koth says suspiciously.

“He contacted me unbeknownst to his father, he has asked the Jedi for help in overseeing a trial, it seems they have captured the perpetrators who led the attack on Sundari three years ago, it also seems that not all the details were made privy to the Jedi. One of his sons was captured and sold into slavery after the attack.” Obi-Wan explains.

“Did he say why he was contacting you specifically?” Mace asks.

“Why he contacted me, I do not know, I do not know how much of my past with Mandalore and the Governor of Concordia is public information. However, Prince Fett said that he knows his family isn’t able to hold a fair trial and the attackers are looking to show that Clan Fett is unable to rule the Empire fairly so he asked me if I would come as neutral party to oversee the trial.” Obi-Wan continues.

“Understand our hesitance, Obi-Wan, you must. The situation, complicated it is, history has not been forgotten.” Yoda says with a hum.

“I understand Master but this could be an opportunity to realign the Jedi with the Mandalorian Empire, every year more and more planets leave the Republic to join the Empire, isn’t it time that we move past our history?” Obi-Wan asks.

“It is not us we are worried about, Jango Fett killed 6 Jedi with his bare hands, this may possibly be a lie to lure a Jedi away from Coruscant.” Shakk Ti says as she interlaces her fingers.

“That was different, that was war, the Jedi did the same to the Mandalorians, we cut them down, there were no innocent people on those battlefields.” Plo Koon adds.

“While the relationship between us and the Mandalorians has been tense or non-existent our information has led us to believe that they hold no current ill will towards us. Jango may have his reasons but he hasn’t actively gone after Jedi since the war ended. This may the perfect time to extend an offer. If we can help him find closure with his son, he may have a change of heart. If we have their support, the Jedi will be able to reach much farther into the galaxy.” Saesee Tiin says and with the way several council members frown they know he’s right.

The Jedi are small in comparison to the galaxy and the Republic has kept their growth stunted, more interested in having the Jedi serve them for their own gain than allow them wander the galaxy as the force commands them, preventing them from helping those that truly need it.

He knows they have let down those who cry for help simply because their ruling power hoards their strength for themselves.

“Take Padawan Tano with you, to Mandalore you will go. Obi-Wan, be wary you must, change this could mean, for the Jedi and the galaxy.” Yoda says with a small frown of worry.

“Of course, Mater Yoda, I thank you for entrusting me with this task and for trusting my judgement. I will contact the Prince to let him know that we will be leaving for Mandalore soon.” Obi-Wan says as he stands from his chair.

“May the Force be with you Master Kenobi.” Mace says and Obi-Wan bows in return.

“As with you Masters, I will contact you soon to let you know of my progress.” He replies before he leaves the council room.

He just hopes the frequency Cody contacted him with is good both ways, he really doesn’t want to contact Satine to call Jango’s son, it would probably lead to another 2-hour debate about his role as a peacekeeper.


	5. Absolutely Not That

“Hmm this is really good, where did you learn to make this?” Anakin asks as he shovels the porridge into his mouth, barely pausing to breathe as he eats like a starving man who hasn’t seen food in days.

Rex chuckles as he blushes, the man is eating the simple meal like he has prepared a five-star dinner from the galaxy’s best delicacies. He was pleasantly surprised to see the man kept a healthy stock of spices and herbs to season his food, luckily enough he had found a tree sap to sweeten the hearty oats before Anakin had dropped a handful each of berries on top. Overall, it had been the best thing he had in years after eating the flavourless delicacies that the rich and Radora would gorge themselves on.

“My father would be away on business and work a lot of the time so my brother and I learned to cook for ourselves as we got older, I found out pretty soon what I liked and didn’t, so I’ve just stuck to perfecting things I know will taste good to me.” Rex admits truthfully.

“Your dad was an absent one?” Anakin asks gently and Rex shakes his head before he takes another bite.

“Oh no, he loves us more than anything, work just eats up a lot of his time, I also have 7 other brothers so he’s also had to split time between all of us, but he’s always made sure that each of us have been taken cared of and loved equally, on the other hand I’ve only see my mother twice in person.” Rex says a little bitterly.

“Well, her loss then. I had a mother once but the memories of her are faint and difficult to pull together.” Anakin admits with a frown.

Rex wonders if it would be worse to remember that his mother has never loved him or to lose the memories of a mother that had loved him with all her heart.

He quickly decides that both are equally shitty and he shovels the porridge into his mouth to disguise the hurt his train of thinking causes himself, but if he can tell anything by the way the man grimaces, he has heard his thoughts loud and clear.

He has to remember to keep his shields up with a less conscious effort, he could do it with little difficulty before his capture but Radora had been Force sensitive and would punish him if he could sense Rex trying to raise his shields. So, he had fallen out of practice and now he barely remembers how to construct the mental shields Jango had painstakingly taught him to create. Another thing Vizsla and Radora had stolen from him, his humanity is one thing, but trying to strip his father from him is unforgivable.

A lot of people had their reasons to hate Jango and his sons are soft target to get the man to submit and band to any command. His enemies would love more than anything to see the hurt on his father’s face by seeing his sons stripped of their Mandalorian identity.

“Are you okay?” Anakin asks worriedly with a concerned frown on his face.

Rex swallows roughly before replying. “Yeah, I’m just worried about my dad, I’ve been away for so long and he loves us too much for his own good sometimes, I know the past few years couldn’t have been easy for him.” Rex replies, distracting himself again by taking several sips of water from his glass while Anakin looks at him sympathetically.

“I understand, I know I can’t fix what has been done but once everything calms down I can take you to one of the space ports and get you off planet and out of range of Radora’s influence.” He says, but something he doesn’t mention gives him pause.

“What about you?” Rex asks as Anakin brings their dishes to the sink.

“What do you mean?” He asks, seemingly caught off guard with the way he fumbles with the dishes, they clatter loudly in the sink and he mutters a curse that sounds suspiciously close to a huttese curse.

“I mean, you can’t stay here after letting me into your home, Radora will hunt you down for sure, you’ll be in danger every moment you stay as long as that slimy freak stays in power.” Rex says fervently and becomes even more gobsmacked when the swamp man only lazily shrugs his shoulders.

As many times he has pictured smashing Radora’s face in with his bare fists he knows he would be shot dead by his guards or hunted down relentlessly until he was caught. It’s a well-known fact that Radora holds grudges that last well beyond the grave and are carried out by a malicious sadist who covers as a soft-spoken stylus pusher, he shivers at the thought of Abulon.

“I am the defender of this swamp, no one else will be its guardian and without one it will be swallowed by the city’s filth. I cannot let that happen, I’ve had many people try and come after me and all of them have failed and they will fail again.” Anakin says a little too firmly for his liking, but the man is still technically a stranger to him the tone snaps him back to reality.

Even if they have done some emotional bonding over absentee parenting, the way the man never mentioned remembering a father makes it pretty clear that even with having memory loss he had never had a father to begin with. The fact still holds that he is a stranger.

However even with their unfamiliar standings he had still pulled him from the swamp and had patched him up. He had welcome him into his home, it isn’t his place to push for anything the man doesn’t want to reveal or do.

He is his own person and would do as he pleased the moment Rex isn’t his problem anymore and he would respect that, the man didn’t ask for the drama of a disguised prince turned run away slave. If he was in the same position he wouldn’t exactly be jumping at the drop of a hat if a slave told him he should leave his current life to run away just because of a little danger.

“You’re right, I’m sorry it’s not my place to tell you what to do after all you’ve done for me.” Rex says apologetically.

“Don’t tie yourself into knots over your own words, I understand, again where you are coming from and I know it would pain you if harm were to befall me after I’ve helped you, I appreciate the sentiment and I don’t take any offense.” Anakin says and he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Now I know I promised you a trip to the river, the sun should have warmed the water enough for it to be somewhat enjoyable, we can go now if you want unless you want to rest some more?” Anakin asks, changing the topic once again to lead into to a more surface level discussion rather than the somber conversation that they had been having.

Rex recognizes the pattern of the man’s behaviour after the second time he diverts to conversation to something lighter. He seems subversive to talking in depth about his personal woes or possible threats to his person, which in fact did make sense.

Everything circles back to the fact that they were two strangers lying and keeping secrets from each other, for all he knows the man’s name isn’t even Anakin. The apparent and simmering distrust suddenly become glaringly obvious and Jango would be very disappointed in him for getting so comfortable in a stranger’s house when allies have done much worse to them, his time as a slave has made him soft.

He smiles tightly and nods his head.

“I think I’ve rested all I can, anywhere I can rinse off sounds better than a million credits now.” He jokes, his mind is pulling him in all different directions and he currently at a loss of how act now.

It feels like his heart and mind are ripping him in half and he just hopes that the river water will be refreshing enough to center himself and clear his head of thoughts he really doesn’t need to be having. Certainly not about how conflicting his incredibly attractive saviour is when he’s on the run from his former slavers and missing the use of one of his legs.

However, his brain still supplies him with a wave of images when Anakin picks him and he instinctively wraps his arms around his neck. He needs to focus on his escape off world and definitely not on how warm Anakin’s skin feels and how is muscles ripple under his tunic and especially not how they would feel while under him.

Absolutely not that.

* * *

“Master…As much as I tease you about Satine, I really don’t know about what happened between you two…” Ahsoka asks as she scrubs at her shoto until it gleams dully in the bland lighting of the Obex.

He sighs and fiddles with the buttons on the ship lamely, he’s stalling for time as they both know there isn’t any need to perform any task while hyperspace. That is, unless their ship decides to combust randomly, but she’s proud enough of her maintenance to know that the ship is in the best condition it can possibly be in for their mission. She checked over the repairs herself after the last time they crashed it after flying into the middle of a pirate turf war.

“How much Mandalorian history do you know?” He replies, not a direct answer but not a direct avoidance like he had done before.

“I know that they have been in a constant state of battle for the true title of Mand’alor. As of now, Jango Fett has maintained his rule for the past 28 years and the planet is rather prosperous under his rule, even if the surface of the planet is permanently ruined because of the battles they’ve had.” Ahsoka as she rubs her jaw, she knows her knowledge is the diet version of their history. It hasn’t been readily available as a Jedi for the obvious reasons. The history between them being why the Mandalorians have prohibited them for learning about the history and culture of their people..

“The conflict that has ruled the majority of their history hasn’t only ruined Mandalore, Concordia is more of an asteroid belt than a planet these days, but yes under the rule of Jango Fett that planet has remained somewhat at peace.” Obi-Wan says with a sigh.

“Clan Fett was recognized as the ruling clan after Jango Fett was able to push the Sith led assault off the planet. While Jedi were the main attacking force, we were unaware that a Sith was the main orchestrator of the conflict, none the less Mand’alor Fett has never truly forgiven the Jedi, hence the strict ban.” Obi-Wan explains.

Ahsoka scrunches her brow, sure she can understand an anger in the aftermath but to hold a grudge for so long when all the Jedi in the conflict have probably long since died seems unhealthy. It even feels unhealthy to curse at ghosts for crimes long since past, like yelling at cloud wisps after a hurricane, screaming at something that wouldn’t even hear you feels like a waste of time and energy better used for other things.

Yet on the other hand she had been mad at Anakin and had cursed and screamed at his name knowing he would never hear her. She understands in some parts, she has been caught again with her logical thinking pulling her one way yet her sympathetic heart pulling in another.

She knows she has to find away to meditate through the emotions to find her balance if she ever wats to be a proper knight. Even so the task of untangling her emotions so that they do not cloud her judgement sees like a mountainous task and she instinctively tries to flinch away from it.

“Master, where do you fit in, in all his mess?” She asks.

“I was assigned with my Master to defend the Duchess of Mandalore at the time, I spent on year with Satine and Qui-Gon, we were on the run, going day to day without knowing what would happen next. I fell in love with Satine and she with me , she was the only person I would leave the order for, then again at the time I was merely a teenager and I was foolish, she was too but as the year came to an end we both realized that we were never mean to be. So, we went our separate ways and she become the Governor of Concordia.” Obi-Wan tells her.

She can only stare blankly at her Master as shock eats the words right out of her mouth, she knows Obi-Wan has told her on several accounts that he is not the perfect Jedi that everyone has built him to be. But he has always been steadfast in his dedication to the order, it was his entire life, she can’t ever see him ever leaving it, even for someone he loved.

“Master Kenobi, forgive me for speaking out of term but I can sense a deep conflict within you when you speak about the Governor, is there something more that happened between you and Satine? She asks and he sighs again.

“As we have become more involved in certain war efforts across the galaxy and have strayed somewhat from our original image of being peacekeepers the relationship between the Governor and I has grown quite frigid. She herself has dedicated her life to one of pacifism and so our varying beliefs, as we’ve grown older has forced us further apart. While our love affair happened many years ago it still pains me somewhat to know that our relationship will never be what it once was.” Obi-Wan explains again.

Just as she’s about to open her mouth to comfort her Master, a holo-image from an incoming broadcast appears over their communicator.

“Jedi cruiser Obex, this space is prohibited to you, state your reasoning for your trespassing and prepare to be taken into custody.” A man wearing Mandalorian armour in different shades of blue says.

“Ah, Protector Fen Rau, that won’t be necessary we are here on business at the request of the first Prince of Mandalore.” Obi-Wan says smoothly, Ahsoka knows better than to be surprised that he knows who the helmeted Mandalorian is but him knowing his full name is still jarring since she has never heard of him in her life.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi? A little far from home, aren’t you? You can’t expect me to believe that Prince Fett would contact you with out the Mand’alor knowing.” Fen Rau says suspiciously.

“I know it sounds odd Protector, but trust that I come bearing no ill-will towards your people.” Obi-Wan says.

“You have not changed one-bit Kenobi, your words are just as pretty as they were all those years ago. I will escort you to Mandalore myself and we will see if your words match the reality you have constructed, be warned Jedi, if it becomes apparent that you have lied I will not hesitate in wiping you off the surface of Mandalore.” He says before cutting the connection.

“A pleasure as always Fen.” Obi-Wan says to open air as they follow the Mandalorian starfighter to the dusty white planet in front of them.

“You seem popular.” She comments dryly.

“Just wait until you meet Jango, he’ll make whatever Fen said seem like child’s play. I just hope the Prince has made our arrival known to his father.” Obi-Wan says with an exasperated sigh.

At least it wouldn’t be a boring mission.


	6. Splish Splash I was Taking a Bath

“Who the fuck is that?” Jango bellows at his oldest son who doesn’t even have the gall to look scolded, he should look scolded since that’s what’s happening right now while Jedi loiter right outside the palace. The betrayal of his son thinking him to be an old senile fool who can’t even run his empire is sharp and deep in his heart.

Rage burns a fiery wave through his very veins, and he can feel how his body can’t hold onto his ragged gasps for air. He feels like a rabid wolf and he knows he doesn’t look like the dignified leader he should be but there are things his son doesn’t understand.

Seeing those robes again, seeing how their weapons dangled innocently from their belts like they weren’t capable of causing agonizing death forces him back into memories he doesn’t want to remember. 

Like how Myles’ blood had felt seeping through his gloves. How the man’s dying oath of servitude sounded as he pulled Jango in to whisper it against his lips before he had left a haunting kiss that would follow Jango for years to come.

The death they caused is unforgivable to him, not after tearing Myles away from him. Someone who deserved to live well beyond his years and finally for himself after years of servitude and following orders from his pledge allegiance.

“Dad!” Boba’s cry cuts through the haunting memory and he realizes that he’s clutching at Cody with his fingers desperately curled in his gold robes. He lets out an involuntary sob as he slides to the ground.

“Bly, Gree please go meet our Jedi guests and inform Fen he can stop pointing his blaster at them.” Cody says and his other sons turn and walk towards the Jedi like they would keep breathing in the next few minutes.

He wants to cry out, desperately for his sons to stay away, he can’t lose anymore of his boys, he can’t. Knowing that Rex is gone forever is enough to crush his heart, if his sons are cut down in front of him it would be the end for him.

A hard slap to the face knocks his head back and he clutches at his face as he stares at his oldest son with his hand raised to hit him again. He knows shock and betrayal are on his face openly, but never hatred, he could never hate his sons.

Cody is merely a reflection of himself when he was a younger man, with so many similarities it almost scares him some days, but he knew his son has turned out better than he ever was.

“Are you with me?” Cody asks and he clears his throat roughly and nods his head before he ducks his head in shame.

He thought he had gotten better, had grown past the trauma, he hadn’t ever wanted to scare his boys like he did after the breakdowns he had during the year following Rex’s capture. He had never wanted Boba to see him a wailing, sobbing mess and think less of him.

But alas, his sons being better than him is a running theme in all of them and Boba has only clutched him silently until he reciprocates the crushing hug, ready to pull himself off the floor again and resume being the Mand’alor.

He pulls himself up from the depths again, and he would again and again, until his decrepit body finally has had enough.

“Yes.” Jango says simply as Cody helps him to his feet.

“I know I don’t know everything when it comes to the Jedi but you know as well as I do that all eyes will be on us during this trial, Pre Vizsla wants to shake the faith the people have in you. I can’t let that happen. Myles would want you to hold the title of Mand’alor until the end of your days, I can’t let his sacrifice be in vain and I can’t let Vizsla win after what he did to Rex.” Cody admits and while he is furious with the fact that he has purposefully invited Jedi to his domain after keeping them away for so long.

“I know, my son, I know you would never do anything to harm our family intentionally, I think no less of you because of your actions.” Jango mutters.

He sees his sons laugh with the red-haired man and a young Togruta and something shifts in his chest, _later he would realize that he had felt something akin to hope for the future of his empire._

Myles had sacrificed himself for their dream and he wouldn’t simply lose it to anyone, let alone to the _demagolkas_.

“Father, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and his Jedi learner Ahsoka Tano.” Bly says and the two Jedi bow respectfully.

“Mand’alor Fett, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The red-haired Jedi says and his learner follows bowing deeply.

Jango grunts, pulling himself to his full height to try and stare down the Jedi, he knows what they’re capable and he makes sure to keep his mental shields tighter than Mandalore’s prison.

“What is your purpose for coming here Jedi? You should know that my Empire has long been forbidden to you and either you have too much faith in my patience or you are far too confident in your abilities to survive long enough to escape my space system.” Jango growls and he’ll give credit, the Jedi doesn’t seem phased.

“Mand’alor, we have come to help oversee the trial of Pre Vizsla and the Death Watch as a neutral party.” Obi-wan says evenly.

“Seems like a flimsy excuse to risk your necks Jedi, have you come instead to spy on my Empire or to look for a weakness in an attempt to destroy all that I have built? I know all about you Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Jango questions icily.

“Father.” Cody hisses but in the moment, he pettily ignores his son.

“Jango, if I may speak freely, I know what it is like to lose a son. I lost a son who I raised for thirteen years, I was next to him during all his highs and lows so trust me when I say I understand your pain. I came here at the request for your oldest so we could put the past behind us, so I could do my role I have dedicated my life to and offer help in a dire situation.” Obi-Wan says and for a moment he doesn’t want to slug the man across the face.

As much as it revolted him, he had more in common with the Jedi than anyone in his government. No one outside his family had really understood the pain like the man in front of him apparently does.

But then he thinks of Myles again, the ghost that only appears in his darkest of times with the weight of the slaver collar that had hung around his neck. His hatred for what the Jedi did to his planet and people clashes awfully with the pitiful flame of hope the Jedi has reignited in his heart.

“It is and never will be Jango to you Obi-Wan Kenobi, I am Mand’alor and will be addressed as such. We will meet with my council to see if you are allowed to stay on our soil. Cody, explain the situation to the Jedi learner, if they are going to be of assistance then they will need to know who they are dealing with.” Jango says grimly and Cody nods.

“What do you say Obi-Wan? Can I trust your Padawan with my sons?” Jango hisses at the Jedi who only has a small smile on his face, he knows the Jedi has felt him crack.

“Of course, Mand’alor Ahsoka has been trained by only the best and will bare no ill-will to your sons, we are only here to help you.” Obi-Wan says earnestly and Jango so conflicted on whether he wants to trust him, his heart wails for a chance to finally believe that someone has come to help with only good intentions in their heart.

But he is not so foolish to believe such a thing exists no matter how much he craves it, he knew what being Mand’alor entailed when he took the position all those years ago. He will never regret taking up the mantel and growing the fair and just empire that his own father had always dreamed off, but he feels as old and weary as his bones tell him he is.

Hardship has made him feel every minute drag by and he hopes that one day he can come back to the man he once was, the man he was proud to be.

Until then, he tries not to panic as he watches his sons disappear around a corner with the Togruta Jedi talking like old friends and leaving him alone with Kenobi.

“Tell me about this son, Kenobi.” Jango says as he stalks down the hall, not waiting and only a little bit smug about how the Jedi scrambles to keep up.

He would not betray Myles’ memory by giving out his kindness unearned by the Jedi, he needs to truly understand them before he makes any moves.

* * *

The river is breathtaking, he had cemented himself reluctantly in the ides of bathing in some dingy water that would be coloured brown from the city’s sewage and other waste. But as they limp through the undergrowth, well he limps and Anakin supports most of his weight without a complaint as he huffs and puffs with each step. They come across probably the most beautiful thing he’s seen in years.

In his time on Dandoran he’s known distantly that the planet is capable of beautiful things, it is a jungle planet, meaning biodiversity was plentiful and common place. However, after spending so long in the climate-controlled halls of the palace and seeing the city belch out pillars of toxic fumes from the different factories and mills. He had convinced himself that all beauty on the planet must have been long since been destroyed in the name of greed, and so now he stands with his mouth gaping open at the river.

“It’s my pride and joy.” Anakin says with a chuckle and Rex snaps out of daze as Anakin tugs them forwards.

“It’s definitely something...” Rex whispers as they hobble close to the river’s edge dotted with vibrantly pink flowers that almost appear to glow in the dusty morning light. The thick canopy of trees split apart where the river settles into a gently churning pool before continuing down stream. The calmer waters allow for lily pads to float on the surface of the green tinted water and nothing has looked more inviting in years.

“Can you swim? It gets deep a few feet off the shore.” Anakin asks nervously and Rex has to smother a laugh, he guess he would be nervous if he took his resident injured person to a body of water without checking if they could swim.

However, all he wants to do is wriggle out of his arms and dive headfirst into the water, so he doesn’t draw out the man’s panic.

“Swimming isn’t going to be a problem for me, just throw me in, I’m dying for a bath.” Rex says with chuckle as the man deflates.

Anakin scoops him up suddenly and he flails before clutching the man tightly and he feels his face go redder than Fox’s armour. For a moment he fears he’s crossed a boundary with the way the man stiffens, but when Anakin only smirks down at him he breathes a sigh of relief and makes a show of rolling his eyes at the smirking man.

After a bit of fumbling and rearranging Anakin throws their robes on a mossy log and he readjusts his grip on Rex as he steps into the water, goosebumps spring over him as the water splashes against his bare skin

Sure, it isn’t the hot springs on Mandalore, but it also isn’t the frigid waters of Mon Calamari. He relaxes into the playful lapping of the water with a grateful groan as Anakin settles him on a submerged rock ledge the keeps his chest and head comfortably above the water line, then he makes a show of diving in the water.

He admires the shape of the man that travels under the surface of the water, his hair billows in enticing waves around him and there is no questioning the man’s beauty and grace. The power his body hides shines through in a beautiful art form and Rex should know plenty about performance art, Jango has dragged him to enough ballet’s in his lifetime.

He groans as his imagination starts to run wild when Anakin breaks the surface of the water in dazzling spray of water and turns to shoot him a blinding smile. He ducks his head under the water and scrubs the cool water through his greasy hair, taking a handful of mud to scrub his hair as clean as it could get without any soap. He’ll never take soap for granted again after he gets back.

 _When you leave Anakin alone you mean_. His mind whispers to him like the traitor it is, he shakes his head roughly and dunks himself again. Only to inhale a mouthful of water when Anakin’s blurry face emerges from the murky depths, he wasn’t lying when he said the river is deep.

However, he doesn’t have time to admire the depths of the river for long as he surfaces, hacking and coughing water back up in what he knows is definitely not dignified or princely.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Anakin laughs and Rex splashes him playfully.

“Oh doctor, I don’t think I’m going to make it you’ll have to kiss it better.” Rex says teasingly but then immediately blushes and looks away when he realizes what kind of word vomit had flooded out of his mouth. He now believes Bly when he says that he’s not very good at keeping a lid on his inner thoughts.

“I fancy myself to be more of a sexy nurse, now are you going to be a good patient.” Anakin replies cheekily. He prays in the moment for his dick to not make a surprise appearance after so many years of neglect, jerking off was less sexy when next to crying slaves but he can feel his briefs tighten under the water.

“I’m the best patient, do I get a reward if I’m extra good?” Rex asks and he squawks when Anakin shoves his head under the water which turns into a very aggressive splashing fight.

After they calm down Anakin swims circles around, being careful to avoid his still very broken leg that floats listlessly in the river water. For the first time since he’s been awake to do more than grunt single worded responses, bolts of agony don’t shoot up his spine at every wayward breeze that brushes against his leg.

“How did you learn to swim? I know enough to stay alive but I’ve never seen swimming like what you do.” Rex asks curiously.

“I don’t really know, I usually come out here to swim everyday since I’m not exactly making social calls to the city or having house guests so I guess mostly practice and listening to the water.” Anakin replies and Rex frowns.

“Listen to the water, what do you me-” Rex asks when Anakin suddenly slaps a hand over his mouth, his body tense as a bowstring.

Then he sees it, or rather them. Radora’s scouts and he curses a blue streak silently, hoping that they hadn’t manage to spot them fucking around in the river. He berates himself for not being more vigilant, again. He’s still on the run and the threat has come closer than he should have ever let it.

“Stay here, I’m going to deal with them before they can report back. More might be around so stay vigilant.” Anakin whispers and he grits his teeth and nods.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He whispers backs, as much as he wants to help beat the scouts into the ground, have a piece of the vengeance he craves so badly, he knows he would be as useless as blaster that shoots confetti.

So he watches as Anakin slips into the darkness of the swamp as he stalks the retreating scouts, Anakin would be fine, he’s sure of it, there’s something about him that screams competent warrior and he’s becoming more and more convinced that he’s just stumbled across a Jedi with amnesia.

But that is a problem for another time.

Slowly he glides back to the shore and even as he broken drags roughly along the rocky and muddy shore he keeps moving. He bites his lip with vengeance, if he cries out he will for certain attract any lingering scouts and all of Anakin’s efforts will be for nothing.

Inch by inch he gets closer to a lush thicket of planet life dense enough to keep him sheltered until Anakin returned, he so close to safety he can almost breathe properly. Just as he feels like he might make it, a stinging agony shoots up his leg and he can’t help but cry out before quickly clamping his hand over his mouth. He muffles his whimpers as he looks down to see a black slug creature that has sunk it’s teeth into the meat of his calf. He gags and rips the black slug off his leg, the slug doesn’t go without a fight and takes a piece of his leg with it when Rex finally rips it off and smashes on the rocks next to him. It dies with a pathetic squeal.

“Fucking jungle slug.” Rex mutters shaking his head as a headrush suddenly overcomes his senses.

He looks back down at his leg to see the damage and notices red veins scatter up and down his leg from the bite. He then reluctantly looks at his hand and sees that where his bare skin touched the slug is now turning a violent red.

“Oh, that can’t be good.” Rex mutters.


	7. Tell Me About Pre Vizsla

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruh not even lowkey Bo-Katan really let her xenophobia pop off when she split from Maul's death watch, like she would allow a white guy to kill her sister but once an alien walks on scene she's like ooooh noooo I won't murder under someone different than me.
> 
> Also Satine caused a cultural genocide of her own people ://////

The minds of the scouts that spotted them are easy enough to influence, he has been the primary reason why the swamp has gained the reputation of inducing forgetfulness and disorientation, he adds to the swamp’s existing abilities to seep into the minds of weak-willed or corrupt intruders to slowly drive them mad. The mystery of the unknown, uncomprehensive power keeps people away, keeps them scared.

The influence trick always leaves him feeling shaky and lightheaded, the ability didn’t have much use when he is mostly alone for his existence in the swamp. Manipulating an animal’s mind is much easier than planting a thought into the complex organ of a sentient’s brain, a brain that can vary from species to species as well as on a individual distinction. A gentle operation, where if he isn’t careful, he could risk out right killing the person or have them notice that is sifting through their mind, making them shore up their mental defences or tear them both apart in self defense or fear.

If someone notices him after trying to influence their thoughts, he would be weak and have someone on his tail, which is always a bad combination. His skills have solely been used for nurturing and communicating with the swamp for years, he is easily out of practice for any of his other abilities, the prince had called it the Force. He has only known it as a whisper of warmth against his skin or a soothing echo of a voice that reminds him of home. Of a temple thousands of years old with lived-in stone walls that echoes with the laughter from children. Whatever it is, he knows it’s where he belonged in a previous life. But now, he doesn’t know if he belongs there anymore.

He is a ghost, a myth of a vengeful spirit that haunts the very steps of anyone who dares to enter his domain.

His faceless persona has been a thorn in the side of Radora ever since he had started defending the swamp, he had to be careful about what he does around the warlord. He has no doubt that he would kill him the first chance he gets, harbouring his runaway house slave will only enrage him further. He isn’t sure if the Ongree still believes that he is the monster people describe him as, the vindictive warlord is much smarter than anyone is led to believe and his men would only come in droves until they find the Prince’s body, they would discover his truth eventually.

He knows the moment he pulled the dying prince from the swamp that he had sealed his own fate, he can’t stay here any longer, it is time to move on. Even if the prince does heal quickly, he can’t, in good conscience, send the man out into space on his own.

There is also the fact of earning the man’s trust, he had seemed to trust his every word when he had first regained consciousness three days ago, 6 days after he had found him in the swamp. But now he senses the man shoring up his mental defenses, becoming guarded with what information he shares, it makes logical sense, but it still rubs his ego the wrong way.

Had he not made himself trustworthy enough? He had answered all his questions truthfully, given his memory loss, he had not intentionally hidden anything from the man. His clear thoughts valiantly try to fight off his darker ones as they threaten to consume him.

Anger against logic, paranoia against trust. A prince made into a slave against his will is surely to come with baggage, a mess of betrayal and anger. He has to remind himself of the vague memory that he has of a bearded man who tells him to have faith in people, to believe that who he has dedicated his life too will return his trust, too lead by example.

A dagger of shock and pain slices through the swamp and he instantly pales.

The prince.

He turns from his silent stalking of the scouts, they’ve traveled far enough from the river to give up on their search and head back to the palace to report that they have found nothing. The prince is his priority now, the pain and fear does not come unwarranted in this swamp. The blonde man is unfamiliar with all the dangers around them and he had been foolish to leave him alone for so long.

Not soon enough he finally reaches the river and to his horror, he doesn’t see the prince at all.

Until he does, the prince has dragged himself away from the river, obviously trying to find cover to hide in until the threat of the scouts had passed like Anakin had told him to. But, as he gets closer he sees the vicious lines of red running along his skin from a bite mark on his calf and nothing but a black smear on the rocks next to him.

A leech, of course they would be in the surrounding area of the river. It’s only his luck that the only time he leaves the prince alone in the swamp, he’s attacked by a poisonous invertebrate.

“Pre Vizsla...? Can you here me?” He asks tapping the man’s cheek roughly to get a response from the limp man.

“Anakin…? Are the scouts gone?” He wheezes as hie eyes roll around feverishly as they struggle to focus on one thing at a time.

This couldn’t be much worse, luckily, he knows how to treat the poisoning. Having been bitten himself, but he knows how miserable the experience is to have the toxin be pumped around your organs. The paralysis agent feels more like the victim’s muscles are trying to turn themselves inside out and the disorientation fogs the mind enough to keep the person from moving even if they are able to push through the pain of the spasming muscles. A slow torture that emits a pheromone that acts as a dinner bell for other surrounding leeches. Leading to a slow brutal death of slowly being eaten alive and picked at until the toxin reaches the heart and stops it completely, or the victim simply dies of dehydration.

He had never thought a slug could be cruel until he met the slimy nightmare.

“Yes, but you’ve been poisoned, I need to take you back to my home, we can’t leave until the poison is out of your system, I’m not going to lie it’s not going to be pleasant, people on this planet use those slugs for torture.” Anakin admits with a wince.

“That’s reassuring, I’m going to live right?” The prince asks desperately as he clutches onto his cloak.

“Of course, I’m not going to let you die Vizsla.” Anakin reassures him as he hefts the wiggling man higher onto his back so that he is essentially giving him a piggy-back ride.

If he does throw up it will be over his shoulder and hopefully onto the ground and not down his front, a small mercy.

He calls on his power to push him home, running faster than he knows he should never have the ability to do with the heavy man on his back. He’s halfway home when the prince starts sniffling, apparently delirium and lack of emotional control is also a side effect of the poison.

“I’m sorry...” The Prince mumbles before he whines in distress.

“Whatever for?” Anakin replies alarmed, one part of him immediately concerned at the sudden downturn of the prince’s mental well being and the other part relieved to see the edges of his property come into view.

“I’ve been lying to you, I’m not Pre Vizsla…” The prince says with another whimper.

“You don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to...” Anakin trails off nervously.

“You need to know, you can’t get hurt because of me, I’m, I’m a prince from Mandalore, I’m a Fett, I’m Rex.” He mutters against Anakin’s neck before falling completely limp.

Mandalore.

He’s only heard the planet’s name in passing when he’s overheard discussions of how a new planet each day joins the Mandalorian empire in his few trips to the capital. He hears of how Fett’s power grows, how he makes people nervous.

Which means he has the son of a man who leads an empire 2000 planets strong. The revelation is mildly terrifying.

* * *

“So, tell me about Pre Vizsla?” Ashoka asks Gree as they trail behind Bly, she can see how more geometric shapes of bright yellow trail down his cheeks, around his neck to flow down his spine before disappearing under his collar of his undersuit.

The yellow of his tattoos also matches the yellow that is splashed and stripped down the white plates of beskar, while Gree has his own armour painted with a rich forest green.

All the brothers had their own designated colour painted over white, it’s not really something she had thought possible before landing planet side. All Mandalorian armour she had seen up until this point had been variations using the Mand’alor’s colours of light blue, silver and white.

“Do you want a cut and dry version, or do you want to hear our version?” Gree asks humorously.

“Let’s try and keep things professional brother, we are hosting a guest.” Bly says with a sigh.

“Professional? Vizsla? Didn’t think those two words existed together brother.” Gree deflects back with a smirk.

“Just tell the little Jedi what she needs to know.” Bly says with another sigh. She wants to protest and say she isn’t that small but the two men do tower over her by several inches with their armour on.

“Pre Vizsla was once the appointed Governor of Concord Dawn before he was ousted at the leader of the terrorist organization known as Death watch. He was cast out and luckily enough for us Governor Satine easily took his place, so he hasn’t been missed.” Gree explains.

“What was their purpose? Your father seems well loved throughout the Empire and galaxy, he runs a fair democracy with a fair justice system from what I have read and heard of.” Ahsoka asks as she scrunches her face in amusement.

“If you boil it down, Vizsla and his terrorists are radicalized Mandalorians who base their ideals of xenophobia and elitism. They became enraged when Mandalore began to expand, they think that including non-humans under the name of Mandalore taints our reputation. Unfortunately, Vizsla was able to keep the identity of him being the leader secret up until it was too late, which allowed him to kidnap Rex, our little brother for petty revenge.” Bly adds.

“So, there’s no reasoning with them? What is Vizsla’s vendetta against your father?” Ashoka asks again.

“Vizsla thinks our father is dar’manda because me and my brothers are half Zeltron, while our mother has never been in our lives, Vizsla hates us for being of mixed species. To punish Jango for his supposed crimes of interbreeding with a non-human he stole our brother away and subsequently sold him into slavery. It’s been three years since then and 6 months since Vizsla and his lieutenants have been in prison awaiting trial.” Gree continues to say, being part Zeltron is slightly jarring as the two men in front of her almost seem completely human.

But as she looks second time, she can see how their eyes shine a vibrant gold instead of Jango’s dark brown. Or how the light catches off their skin to reveal the intricate textures and tiny diamond patterns that shimmer the same colour plastered on their armour.

Now that she does see it, she’s a little mesmerized with how Gree’s warm brown skin shimmers a slight forest green as the lights pass overhead.

“What other reason do they have to follow him, other than being a full-blown raving xenophobe?” Ashoka asks.

She knows there will always be prejudice within the galaxy, she’s faced it herself and has seen how Barriss get’s a sneer thrown in her direction once in a while. But she had always liked to believe that people were better than to attack with mindless violence against things they don’t understand.

“Some view him as the true Mand’alor since it was his ancestor who forged the Darksaber, Tarre Vizsla’s blade has been a uniting force for Mandalore for generations and many of his followers believe that it is his birthright to wield it.” Bly says.

“He’s got himself so convinced that he should be wielding the Darksaber, that he runs around with a stolen Jedi lightsaber from a bombing he had influence on as a replacement, until he can get his proper blade. It’s in evidence, it probably belongs with you anyways.” Gree says not noticing how Ahsoka had stumbled slightly. Bly types the code into the evidence locker room, also unaware that they have revealed an earth-shattering revelation.

“What do you mean” She chokes out.

“He got into the ear of a radical politician and pushed him enough to bomb a temple on his home planet of Klatooine, Jango had to pull some strings to untie Mandalore from the attack but we won an ally in the end, however, it still doesn’t make up for the lives lost in the explosion.” Bly says bitterly.

She can’t seem to suck air into her lungs as she sees his lightsaber propped up behind a thick glass cube, it’s just as she’s remembers it. Save for a few new scratches, it the exact same lightsaber Anakin had on his belt the day he died.

The same one he had loved and treasured.

Rage bubbles to the surface of her skin quickly, she can hear how the crystal wails for Anakin, mourns for the touch that will never come. How it flinches away from the brush of the other force signatures in the room.

She must calm herself, anger will only hurt her Master’s lightsaber. It’s already so close to cracking, she would not be the one to break the will Anakin’s kyber crystal

The brothers must notice the sudden shift within Ahsoka as the back up warily.

“Ahsoka? Are you okay?” Bly asks warily, he shines brightly in the darkness, a vibrant purple that compliments the way his eyes and skin sparkle a sunrise yellow.

“My master died in the same explosion five years ago, we were sent to broker a peace agreement so that the transition of power to the new government would be smooth, my master saved many but sacrificed himself. That was his blade.” She says shakily.

“Then it rightfully belongs to you.” Gree says even when a guard stammers a protest, Bly silences the protests with sharp command in a language she distantly recognizes as Mandalorian.

The guard sighs and taps in the code to raise the glass box and she rushes to the lightsaber, it sobs in relief the moment she wraps her hands around the hilt. She almost sobs as well, flashes of Anakin flip through her mind from the crystal’s memory.

“Thank you, I give you my word that Vizsla will pay for everything he has done to your family, it’s the least I can do for giving me the last part of my Master back.” She says sniffing slightly to recompose her as she clips the warbling lightsaber to her belt.

“We know you will.” Gree says simply with a small smile.

She has to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lads are half Zeltro because I say so, they're not clones in this fic so I wanted to experiment with them being mixed species for plot reasons and me reasons :))


	8. Remember Them!

Rex moans in pain as he tosses and turns on the bed, throwing the blankets off as he cries about being too hot but then breaks out into uncontrollable tremors and shivers as his body tries to fight off the effects of the venom.

“Please, just kill me, I don’t know anything. Please it hurts, just make it stop.” He babbles as he tosses his head wildly before breaking down into soft whimpers and sobs as he falls back into a restless hazy dream state.

The shallow breathing is better than the sobs and pleas for mercy. Even as Anakin has done all he can, and he knows in both his mind and heart that the prince will survive with no ill affects. It is still deeply unsettling to hear the man beg for mercy from tortures of his past.

By the sounds of it seems like the prince hasn’t lived the plush lifestyle that many other royals have. On one hand it would make sense, being the son of one of the most powerful men in the galaxy and coming from a warrior heritage, violence and danger have probably bitten at his heels for most of his life. From the sounds of his fevered mumbling it’s most certain that he’s reliving falling into the hands of the wrong people.

He runs his flesh hand over the flushed skin of his forehead in an attempt to brush back sweaty blonde hair, Rex whimpers at his touch but then falls into a deeper, more settled rest that isn’t just forced unconsciousness.

However, seeing the prince in pain isn’t the only thing that pulls at his heart uncomfortably, his mind whispers that he has been here before. Memories well up from the deep dark recesses of his mind, the ones locked away that not even he can reach until they decide to show themselves in the worst of times. But they scream and wail at him to remember them, they scream that they are important.

He drags a tired hand down his face and wraps the prince once again in blankets as he shivers like he’s nude on a snow planet. He feels some measure of shame that he has failed in fulfilling his only promise to the prince to protect him. He will live but it doesn’t take the pain away, alive feels like the bare minimum requirement of his promise.

His head pounds from the echoing screams that reverberate along the inside of his skull With nothing better to do, he strips himself until he stands next to the bed in only his undergarments before slipping under the covers next to Rex.

He hadn’t noticed the first time they had laid together, or even at the river but now as the man’s skin is a ghostly pale with illness, he can see that the man’s skin is covered in an almost invisible intricate texture that runs over every inch of his skin. The ridges are tinged a shimmery blue and it is probably the most breath taking thing he has ever seen.

If he had not already been convinced of the man’s beauty with his golden eyes and platinum blonde hair, the delicate shimmering skin makes him want to devour the man completely. While an odd thought to have, to think about ravishing the man in his care it’s a much needed distraction from the encroaching darkness of his own mind.

Focus on the man before him before the darkness swallows him whole, all that matters is right before him, even as the darkness whispers of all ruin he does not remember causing. He latches onto the man in fear of the darkness, clutching his clammy skin and he whimpers confusedly, probably feeling his desperation through his hold on him even in his own unconsciousness.

_You must remember!_

_Remember them Anakin!_

“I can’t, I’ve told you I have tired, I do not know who you speak of.” Anakin all but wails back to the darkness in his own mind, it has pulled down from reality through brute force alone.

He has never liked meditating, ever since he had arrived on the planet five years ago. Whenever he had tried his powers had clawed at him like a dying man. Pulling him from his body deeper and deeper into the expanse of the universe, those times he had felt like he had been drowning. Too much power all at once but never focused, always panicked and desperate, calling for him to remember things he knows nothing about.

He had always returned to himself shaking and sweaty and in an unimaginable pain like his insides had been scraped out. He had tried to meditate once again as he tried to sink into the expanse it had always battled against being illusive and incomprehensible or overwhelming with vast wealth of knowledge. But he couldn’t understand all that it had to give, as it never gave him a single explanation as to why it showed him those images, the ones that have been now seemingly painted to the underside of his eyelids.

_A young Togruta who looks at him like he’s the corniest person she’s ever known._

_A red-haired man who sighs at him with a loving exasperation._

_The most beautiful woman he had ever seen looking at him like he has hung the starts personally as she holds her heavily pregnant stomach._

He has no memory of ever meeting the three people before in his life, were they enemies? Had they forsaken him and tossed him out? Had he killed them? Why he couldn’t remember anything of his past life? Is he supposed to be searching for these people? Are they even still alive?

Had they loved him? He does not know and it’s all he can do to not wail in frustration.

All he knows is the prince, a man who trusts him with his life against all his teachings. He must continue on, he must survive for the prince and all he must live for. While as unhealthy as it sounds to devote his life to a man who is merely a stranger the prince is all he has, the prince won’t swallow him whole and leave him alone in the darkness. He has already offered more companionship that he has ever felt in he last five years.

With Rex he isn’t alone.

* * *

“Anakin was a son to me. I failed the one person who I all but raised. I know you hold no love for the Order, but I am not here as a representative from the Order. While I cannot leave my identity as a Jedi behind, I am coming to you as a man who understands.” Obi-Wan explains as earnestly to the man who has his back turned to him while he pours himself a generous amount of alcoholic amber liquid.

Jango’s stony disposition has not faded or recede in the time from their explosive meeting to now as he sit stiffly in his library. He itches to crack open the archive files that are just waiting to be read, he knows he would probably lose both his hands if he even inched towards the shelves. The Darksaber is a loaded threat that hangs from the man’s belt. He knows better than to barge into the man’s space and demand things, he has to show that he is worthy of trust.

The next few hours are critical in winning the scowling Mandalorian over.

“Where did you steal him from Jedi?” The man asks gruffly as he looks over his shoulder with a cruel smirk, he inhales deeply and holds the breath in his lungs until it burns.

Jango is trying to provoke him, a simple tactic to prove to himself that the Jedi are all that he believes.

While the vicious rumour is highly insulting, he knows better than to show that the man is getting to him, he wants to hurt him like he had been hurt by the forsaken Jedi of the Order’s checkered past, even the best of them had turned tainting the Jedi’s name.

The expectation that others hold for them to be perfect often overshadows the fact that they are also mortal and equally as fallible than any other sentient. He knows to be betrayed by an Order set up to be the perfect god like cult would be one of the worst betrayals.

“Anakin was a slave on Tatooine that my Master and I has stumbled across while assisting the Queen of Naboo during the blockade of 33BBY. My master had recognized that he was powerful in the force and we freed his mother and the boy from slavery to chose their own paths.” Obi-Wan explains which earns an intrigued expression from the Mand’alor.

“What of his mother? She just let you take her son?” Jango asks before taking a long sip from his tumbler.

“Shmi Skywalker knew her son would be better under our care, she knew how powerful Anakin was and she knew she wouldn’t be able to help him with his growing powers. She married a moisture farmer on Tatooine and even met Anakin’s padawan after she came under his care.” Obi-Wan says casually, he already knows he has the man ensnared.

“The Togruta that came in with you?” Jango asks, trying his best to seem uninterested.

“Yes, Ahsoka Tano, she was his padawan until Anakin’s death.” Obi-Wan replies.

“By the way you speak of him I would think that your Master would have been the one to teach the boy.” Jango says curiously.

Obi-Wan gives a self depreciating laugh.

“You would think, but it seems we weren’t the only ones who had an interest in Anakin or the Queen, a Sith assassin murdered my Master on Naboo and teaching Anakin became my responsibility. I had promised the boy that I would always be there as my Master’s pyre was lit, it was us against the galaxy, yet the one time he needed the most I wasn’t there for him.” Obi-Wan admits look down at his feet with a pained grimace.

“Before the theft of my son, we had a blow out fight, my sons are as stubborn as the next Mandalorian, but this fight had been especially bad, I said some regrettable things and in the end, my son had been right. I had been blinded by my desire to reunite all clans in the name of Mandalore. We have been a broken people for so long and I was too desperate to fix the fractures between clans that I could not see what Vizsla had planned. Rex was already gone by the time the fighting had stopped. I’ve done things I’m not proud of since then to try and get my son back. Tell me Jedi can you help a man who murdered and crippled men and women in his path to get his son back? Some of them didn’t deserve my wrath, but I did not care and I feel no remorse, can you bring yourself to help a monster?” Jango questions as he slowly stalks closer.

Obi-Wan knows a desperate man when he sees one, desperate for someone to understand that he did what he did because he had too. Desperate to be told by someone not under his command that he has done the right thing.

In the simplest terms the man needed someone to understand, desperately so.

Obi-Wan sighs deeply as he levers himself from his chair to step forward to only be a few centimeters away from Jango. He can see Jango’s muscles spam in an aborted shift but he keeps himself calm, exuding the fact that he isn’t here to hurt him.

“You’re operating on the fact that I haven’t done regrettable things either, that I haven’t killed because it was the only thing I could do. I killed the Sith by slicing him in half and throwing him down an endless pit. He was probably no older than Ahsoka is now, but I still killed him because I had been angry, because I saw no other way. Reaching out to him was no longer an option to me after he had killed my Master. When I tell you what the anger feels like, how easy it is to indulge in violence, I know. If I had not had Ahsoka to lead through the darkness of losing Anaki I would’ve dragged anyone to hell if it meant getting the vengeance I so desperately craved against those who had killed my son. I am not the righteous all powerful being many thinks of us to be, I am simple man, the only thing that separates you and me is our creed.” Obi-Wan says seriously.

The tension in the room so thick he could probably feast on it for days. The artificial light streaming in from the library’s’ tall narrow windows is too cheery for their conversation of murder and cruelty.

But something shifts in the man’s brown eyes, a release of some kind and he see his expression soften slightly, in defeat or relief he isn’t quite sure. Jango’s mental shields are three walls thick of blast proof concrete.

He hasn’t won over the man’s total trust, but he can feel a vague connection form between them. Jango recognized himself in Obi-Wan, he is something tangible to the Mandalorian, rather than an all-powerful enemy that had needlessly terrorized his people in the past.

“You have a sliver of my respect Jedi, many of your kind are not so candid with their failures. I will accept you and your learner’s help with Pre Vizsla’s trial. My staff will bring you and your learner to your accommodations. I’m sure you are tired from your travels.” Jango says sipping from his drink moodily.

He has not cracked the man’s facade all the way but it is a starts. He was under no illusion that this mission would be easy. He cannot, as a single man heal decades worth of pain in a single hour.

“Of course, you have my thanks, Mand’alor I will make my comm available if you need to reach me at anytime.” He says before slipping out of the library.

He releases a breath he had not been aware that he had been holding. A bed sounded more inviting than anything else, a shower as well. Space travel has never failed in making him feel grimy.

Ahsoka would find her way back to him on her own once she was done earning the trust of Jango’s sons. For now he shuffles down the halls to look for a house staff, the thought of a shower becoming more tantalizing as each second passes.

He doesn’t know what the future will bring but he knows he has made steps in achieving balance for a wounded family.

He also knows that he won’t face this battle alone.


	9. Hook, Line and Sinker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun with this chapter so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

“I didn’t expect you to call so soon? Has something happened?” Barriss asks.

She’s covered in layers upon layers of protective gear all designed to protect against the corrosive sandstorms that rage on Tatooine. Tatooine has never failed to make Ahsoka nervous, she remembers when she first came to Anakin as his padawan, she remembers his steely silence as they trekked across the endless deserts. She knew, even then that something dark was stirring in the pit of his soul, a darkness that she came to learn was simply a part of him. But, oh had it scared her as that little girl she once was. He went against everything they were taught at the temple and what it meant to be a Jedi.

She came to learn he was everything they had learned at the Temple, he was just more. He was unapologetically human, she worried some days that if his humanity would be his undoing.

But it didn’t matter anymore she shakes the memories of her head to focus on Barriss, Barriss is still alive.

As much as they tried to stamp it out the slave trade on the desert planet, it always seemed to come back stronger with each raid or shut down the Jedi performed. Even as they saved countless people it sometimes felt like a losing battle against the corruption.

Too many people in the galaxy were attracted to power, lured in by its euphoria, of feeling that they aren’t solely a speck of dust in the wind. That they could bend and mould others to whatever reality they wanted, to feel like they had some grasp on the unobtainable.

Ahsoka struggles to understand the corruption, she’s never been fatalistic or concerned about her place in the galaxy. She has been gifted to help others in the galaxy and she’s never thought about leaving the path life has led her down.

“No everything’s fine, it was a quite a welcoming party. Mandalore is definitely everything they say it is, but Jango’s sons are surprisingly welcoming…They look so much like Jango it’s almost as if he cloned himself.” Ahsoka says with a laugh and Barriss snorts and shakes her head.

“And what of the Mand’alor, how did he receive you?” Barriss asks curiously, she takes another sip from her mug as she waits for Ahsoka’s response.

“Uh, explosively? He didn’t know we were coming until we showed up at this front door and he had quite the shouting match Prince Cody. But he’s been with Master Kenobi for several hours and no alarms have gone off so I can only hope that’s a good sign.” Ahsoka says with a sigh and she already knows that Barriss is trying her best to hold back her laughter.

“Please don’t.” Ahsoka says aggrieved.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, we are having a perfectly respectable conversation about our missions and in no possible universe am I thinking about making a bet to see how long it will take for Master Kenobi to bed the Mand’alor of the Mandalorian Empire.” Barriss says with a sly smile.

“Have mercy! I am but just a simple padawan, it was traumatizing enough when I saw my Master in bed with Hondo. Negotiating my ass, you know I don’t even think that was the only time he’s been balls deep in Hondo.” Ahsoka says with a forlorn moan of despair as she remembers the fateful day where she accidentally walked in on the two in the middle of their fuck fest.

“Well at least you’ll remember to knock this time.” Barriss teases.

“I’m just glad Master Kenobi or force forbid Master Luminara haven’t walked in on us without knocking, I think I would just fade from existence.” Ahsoka jokes, even through the blue grainy hologram she can see Barriss’ skin darken across her high cheekbones, it’s adorable.

“I don’ think I would ever recover…Ahsoka is something else the matter, you look like something is bugging you. You know you can tell me anything.” Barriss says, nudging her gently.

Ahsoka sighs and leans forward, how she wishes Barriss was actually right in front of her rather than systems away. She doesn’t know if she can do this alone. She and Obi-Wan are facing the same battle all over again but their paths are different, she can’t rely on him every step of the way this time. There’s still a lot she doesn’t understand about the Jedi Master, she was never meant to be his Padawan and a lot of the man is still quite a mystery even with how close they have become.

Barriss understands her in ways Obi-wan could not. It was to be expected different love resulted in different connections and understandings of another sentient being.

She slowly pulls out Anakin’s lightsaber and ignites his brilliantly blue blade.

“Is that…?” Barriss asks breathlessly.

“Anakin’s lightsaber, it has been here all this time. Prince Bly and Gree gifted it back to e the moment they learned who it used to belong to. Master Kenobi doesn’t know that I have it. I don’t know how he’ll react when he comes back to the room once he’s done convincing Jango were here as allies and not enemies. I’m not even sure if this is the right time to show him?” Ahsoka says torn as she shuts the blade off. The metal is smooth and worn under her hands, the crystal hums contently as she holds it close to her chest.

It had been desperate for contact, it clawed at her through the force with such desperation she almost through the hilt away, unnerved by the wild animal contained with the crystal.

Now it just reminds her of Anakin, blindingly bright in the force with a cocky swagger to boot.

“Whatever you choose I know it will be the right thing, trust yourself Ahsoka, the princes seem to like you, I know you’ll succeed in your trials and bring us ever closer to our goal of a galaxy at peace. I have to go but I will make sure to call you later, I love you.” She whispers before logging off.

“I love you too.” Ahsoka says back to open air.

Trust yourself like the rest of the galaxy does, easier said than done but she knows she has to try.

* * *

_“Are you blind? You’re letting Pre Vizsla into Sundari? After all he did?” Rex shouts at the shadowy figure of his father, why didn’t he understand? Why did he have to be so proud that he couldn’t even look away from his goals to see that Vizsla was using them?_

_He had something planned and whatever it was it wasn’t going to be good._

_Where are his brothers? They would back him up on this, they had to make Jango understand that Pre Vizsla isn’t to be trusted. The attack on Governor Satine should be proof enough, anyone that would go out of their way to assassinate another Mandalorian should never be allowed to set foot on their soil ever again._

_His father may not like to believe it but Tor Vizsla killed Jaster. Whenever it’s brought up he refuses the idea violently that a man that his father called a brother would’ve killed him and left him for dead on the battlefield._

_They are Mandalorians, brother and sisters in arms against the galaxy._

_“Why won’t you listen to me!” Rex demands as he grabs Jango’s shoulder to pull him around._

_His father’s need to see their people united once again under one clan would kill him. Even worse, he wouldn’t even see it coming._

_But then his father’s head topples off, cut cleanly from his shoulders. He doesn’t even have time to scream as his father’s body collapses forwards and crushes him to the hard stone floor with his considerable weight._

_He can only stare in horror as a faceless Pre Vizsla stands above them as he laughs maniacally with the Darksaber raised above his head, ready for another blow._

_“Please don’t!” He wails but the faceless man pays no heed to him as he plunges the Darksaber through his father’s back. He doesn’t even feel the burn of the black blade._

He wakes with tears on his face and the intense need to throw up that he swallows down stubbornly. Breath in and out. He isn’t on Mandalore, his father is still alive, and most importantly of all Pre Vizsla doesn’t have the Darksaber.

His muscles feel tired like he just ran a marathon, he’s covered in sweat and what he hopes isn’t piss, he’s also ravenously hungry and the skin under his cast itches something fierce, overall, he is uncomfortable. It takes a few minutes to realize where he is, the swamp, Anakin, the river, the damned Sith cursed slug that took a chunk of his leg as he tried to hide from the scouts.

Shit, how long had he been unconscious for?

“Anakin?” He croaks out, the man is nowhere to be seen in the hut. Orange sunlight flickers through the curtains and the slits in the tree, it’s hard to tell if it was almost night or very early morning.

“Anakin!” He tries again, anything could have happened while he had been unconscious.

The scouts could have come back with an army and he could be dead for all he knows. He could be rotting away in the undergrowth and it would be all his fault.

All his fault that another innocent man is dead.

He stumbles out of bed in a panic forgetting that his leg is still very fucking broken. He wails and falls to the ground the moment he puts even a hint of pressure on his foot. He keeps the moan of pain in his throat as he tries to breathe through the distressing pain as he writhed on the hardpacked soil, he wonders if his leg will ever heal.

“Rex!” He hears Anakin shout as he rushes forward to his spot on the floor, dropping whatever he had in his arms as he goes to grasp Rex’s sweaty body.

“I thought you were dead.” He whimpers, tucking his face into Anakin’s simple tunic. He feels the heat of the man’s skin through the thin fabric and he inhales the smell of freshly turn earth and ozone that is the man’s natural smell.

“Hey, hey, everything is okay, we’re still safe. I hadn’t expected you to wake so soon, else I would’ve been here for you. I’m okay, I promise, not a scratch on me.” Anakin says soothingly as he rubs a hand through his hair, brushing it back and carding his fingers through it.

Rex melts against him from the touch, burrowing deeper into his clothes as he squeezes the other man tighter.

“I’m going to pick you back up and put you on the bed, is that okay?” Anakin asks and he nods his head. Adjusting himself Rex finally sees the man’s face and almost gasps when he sees the dark smudges under his eyes, obviously from exhaustion.

“I should be asking if you’re okay, you look like you haven’t slept in days.” Rex says back as clumsily pats Anakin’s firm chest, it’s a nice chest. _A very nice chest._

“I’ll be fine.” Anakin answers noncommittedly.

_That doesn’t answer my question._

“You should be more worried about your own condition prince. You’ve had quite the rough run these past two weeks.” Anakin says drily and Rex stiffens in his arms.

_Right, Jedi. Can’t think too loudly._

“Has it really been two weeks?” Rex asks as Anakin lays him back down on the bed.

“Yes, we should start planning to get off the planet soon, I don’t like how close the scouts got, I pushed them away but more will only come back.” Anakin replies, rubbing his face roughly

“There’s a port just north of the city that Radora uses as an impound for vehicles he steals when he sees a ship he likes, the lot should be full of them, we can steal a ship from there and be off the planet in minutes.” Rex says, he’s seen Radora brag about the lot enough times to know the exact schedule of guards.

Maybe he could bribe one of them while Anakin snuck in and stole a ship.

“Okay, we’ll come up with a plan and move out in three days, I can numb your leg using my powers so you’ll be able to walk better but we will only have one chance at this if we ever want to get off the planet.” Anakin says as he pushes Rex’s hair back from his face.

“Thank you, Anakin, I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.” Rex says earnestly as he clutches Anakin’s wrist, pulling the man in closer.

“Survive and it will be all the repayment I need.” He whispers into his ear, trailing his lips over his temple in an echo of a kiss as he pulls away, leaving Rex shivery and aching for more.

The man has him hooked without even trying.

“Now, how does dinner sound?” Anakin asks with a flirty smirk.

“Like your best idea yet.” Rex replies coyly.

The realization that he desires the man for more than a sexual release with his entire being smacks him the face with as much grace as a drunken pirate. He ignores Boba’s laughter bouncing around his head from the sudden realization.

_He may love the man._


	10. Kiss me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is a risk to run into the city, but he didn’t have any other choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is going to be a little more mature!

It is a risk to run into the city, but he didn’t have any other choice. He needs a bone mender, it became obvious that he would not be able to sustain Rex’s pain absorption for the hike to the confiscated ship lot. The city itself is a 10-kilometre trip from his home, to get to the lot adds another 5 kilometres more to the excursion.

It wouldn’t be enough just for Rex to be pain-free. He needs to use his leg if they are going to make it off the planet. Thing is, Anakin knew the moment he saw the other man’s leg broken at a 90-degree angle that it would take months to heal properly, on top of that, months of therapy for him to use the leg like he used to.

They don’t have that kind of time. So, he leaves in the early hours of the night and stalks a supply truck along the route it takes through the eastern corner of the swamp and he hitches a ride into the city. Getting in is easy, getting out is always the challenge.

The city spreads Eastward, away from the swamp and a towering wall several stories high, that has mostly been retaken by nature is the only thing that separates the power-rich swamp and the sleek modern city. A city that is more sparkling metal and crystalline glass towers than anything else. There were doors in the border wall years ago, but the swamp has also overtaken them years before he had even arrived, hence the only ways in and out of the city are to the North, South and East. The city is beautiful in its own way, but it’s been corrupted at the heart by the palace that sits far above the rest of the commonwealth. But he hadn’t returned to the city to site see, he has a job to do.

He patiently waited until the medical equipment has been unloaded into the warehouse before sending a simple diversion to the sleep-deprived nightguard to head in the other direction. Again, another risk but a necessary one, after he is sure the guard is gone, he slips in and out of the warehouse carrying his prized bone mender, an easy enough steal with the warehouse wide open. It is easy, almost too easy to slip out of the city and now as he nears his house the easiness of his escape, it makes his stomach twist.

It was as if the guards had let him go, they’ve given him a run for his money plenty of times before for causing his mayhem or being a general thorn in Radora’s side. But those times had always been deeper into the swamp, he had never been caught in the city before. He reasons that they know _of_ him, but they’ve never managed to get a proper depiction of what he looks like. The most accurate wanted sign he has ever seen of himself was one with his cloak burying most of his face in darkness and vague description. Sometimes he wonders if Radora is simply too drunk to remember who his enemies are.

Even as his logic is sound and not a single person has come chasing after him he can’t seem to shake the feeling of wrongness. Even in the safety of his own home, he’s on edge while the bone mender buzzes away around Rex’s leg, the man continues to sleep soundly even with the noise.

If he had subtly suggested the prince’s mind to keep him deep in his restful sleep no one would really be the wiser, other than him. While he doesn’t particularly like influencing the minds of his allies, bone menders are more uncomfortable the worse the break is. He doubts that Rex would like to feel his leg knit itself back together while still recovering from the toxic leech bite.

He sighs and shuffles over to Rex and the bed, he’s exhausted, the trip has left him bumbling around his kitchen in the awful early hours of the morning when he should be sleeping. He feels foolish shaking and shivering in his kitchen while Rex lays sprawled out in the bed where he knows for a fact that the man’s skin would be warmed by sleep and more and than inviting. There’s definitely a simmering attraction between them, he feels it himself when Rex has a habit of thinking too loudly.

But he knows the attraction is only from Anakin saving him and nothing else. He had shown the man kindness after years of pain and suffering, it is expected for Rex to become infatuated with his saviour.

While physical or mental he still enjoys the prince’s companionship, and he snuggles closer to the man as he slides under the covers. He will deal with his emotional fallout once they part ways, he just hopes the prince doesn’t make it harder than it needs to be when their time together does end.

He throws an arm over Rex’s bare chest and buries his nose into the crook of the man’s neck, Rex snuffles reflexively but sighs contently in his sleep before settling again. He won’t lie to himself, he will miss the man once he is gone from his life, but it is inevitable.

* * *

Something that he had not expected to happen, is to slowly wake-up achingly hard with his shaft pressed firmly against Rex’s muscled thigh. What is he? A needy teenager who couldn’t control his body? Burning with a blush Anakin tries to slither away to go handle himself in privacy away from the prince, hoping to save his dignity.

The man hadn’t exactly signed up for unsolicited hard-ons when he agreed to sleep in Anakin’s bed. Just as he’s about to wiggle free Rex tense his thigh and drags him back into his personal space. He can’t quite bite back the moan that tumbles out of his mouth has his cock twitches under his pants.

“Hmmm, don’t go.” Rex mumbles sleepily, he turns his head to nose into Anakin’s messy brown hair.

“Are you sure? I’m sorry, this is wrong of me…” Anakin trails off deeply unsure of himself.

“Anakin, listen, I want this, I want you. More importantly, I want you to kiss me.” Rex says now fully awake staring at Anakin with sharp gold eyes.

He swallows heavily under the gaze.

“Kiss me Anakin.” Rex pleads.

He can’t even take a second to tell himself that it’s probably a bad idea before his lips meet Rex’s in a heated but tentative kiss that leaves him grinding himself on Rex’s thigh.

He doesn’t hesitate to dive back in for another kiss after they part for air.

A few moments later of kissing and fumbling against one another and carefully positioning himself so he doesn’t bump Rex’s leg they both have their pants shoved down to their thighs. Anakin can see Rex’s is just as hard as he is, fluid beads at the tip and Rex jerks with a soft moan as the clear fluid slides down his cock.

“Touch me, please.” Anakin whispers as he nips and sucks at Rex’s neck and the prince only moans in delight as he raises a calloused hand to wrap around his throbbing shaft.

“Hmm, pretty, smart and you’ve got a nice dick. I really lucked out in trespassing on your property.” Rex chuckles as he pumps Anakin faster, squeezing him just under the head.

“If you keep sweet-talking me I’m not going to last long.” Anakin wheezes as he thumbs Rex’s slit just to watch the man jerk and moan, Rex’s abs clench as he relentlessly teases the Mandalorian.

“Oooh, a praise kink too? My lucky day, you know if my leg wasn’t broken I would be riding your fat cock into next week. Fuck you’d feel so good.” Rex rumbles and it’s Anakin's turn to moan.

“Rex…I’m…” Anakin wheezes, unabashedly humping his hand now. Distantly embarrassed that the man could basically talk him into orgasming.

“Close…? So am I, you’re really milking me for all I have…shit.” Rex stutters as Anakin squeezes him again.

Rex sucks a dark mark into his collar bone, and he whimpers like a dying man.

“Come for me pretty boy, I know you want to. Give it to me.” Rex whispers and he groans thickly as his abs tighten and molten lava pools in his belly. He can’t stop the high-pitched whine that sneaks past his teeth even if tried and he shivers and quakes through his release like a patched-together speeder.

He hears Rex moan and feels the splash of the man’s release on his own skin a moment later.

“Hmm, good boy.” Rex says nibbling the shell of his ear, he can’t stop the full-body shiver that runs through him.

They lay together in a sweaty heap as the aftermath of the coupling dries on their skin, it’s slightly uncomfortable and his arm is going numb, but he doesn’t want to move. He’s about to open his mouth to say something probably really stupid when he hears it.

The cocking of 30 blaster rifles.

“Come out with your hands up or we will open fire!” Someone barks just outside his front door. 

* * *

Rex can feel every single muscle in Anakin stiffen, he has no doubt that the men outside holding Anakin’s house at gunpoint are apart or Radora’s guard. He curses silently as he furiously tries to come up with a plan to wiggle their way out of the newest mess.

“Stay here.” Anakin whispers as he slowly slides off the bed, tucking himself back into his pants before hastily pulling a shirt on.

“Anakin..!” He starts to hiss but the man presses his hand over his mouth muffling the last half of his sentence.

“You are still injured, you won’t be able to fight them off. They will drag you back to Radora and I doubt you’ll ever have a second chance of escape. I’ll be able to escape whatever prison they put me in.” Anakin says, he wants to be angry at Anakin but all he is angry at himself.

Angry for being weak, for being unable to defend himself, for dragging Anakin into a mess that isn’t even his own to burden.

“They’ve been after me for years, let them think you’ve escaped. I’ll meet you at the impound lot in three days. Pack what you can and meet me there, no heroics, no risks, no stupid ideas. We’re getting off this planet if it’s the last thing we do.” Anakin whispers fiercely as he kisses Rex deeply.

“Okay...okay. I’ll see you in three days, Anakin…Please be safe.” Rex whispers back as Anakin pulls away from the kiss.

“I will.” Anakin says before backing away, he takes a deep breath before he walks out of the house with his hands in the air.

Rex scrambles to the nearest window by the bed to peek through the curtains, his blood runs cold when he sees who is heading the attack on Anakin’s home.

Abulon.

The vindictive bastard looks all too smug as Anakin walks out with his hands raised, he strains to hear the conversation through the walls of the house.

“So…This is the monster of the swamp that has been terrorizing my poor citizen. You don’t look like much, I could sell you to a whore house and make a few good credits, too bad Master Radora wants you dead…. A shame indeed.” Abulon says with a smirk as he grabs Anakin’s face and twists his head back and forth.

His face darkens like a stormy night when Anakin spits on his cheek and calls him something rude in a language he doesn’t understand.

The Abyssin backhands him across the face and the blow sends Anakin tumbling to the ground with a bloody lip. He squeezes his eyes shut when Abulon continues to kick Anakin while he’s down, his grunts of pain seemingly distressing the swamp itself.

If he shows himself now it would only be worse for both of them. So, he grinds his teeth as he watches as they shackle Anakin and drag him away. He hates Abulon, he hates Radora, he hates this planet and they will pay with their lives when he wears his beskar again.

He’s surprised they don’t check the house but just because Abulon is smart didn’t mean he’s immune from letting his own ego blind him. They have Anakin as their prize and that’s all that matters to them at the moment.

Even so, he waits. He waits in a tense silence waiting for the guards to come back and tear Anakin’s home apart. But they never come and after hours of laying completely motionless he scrambles to pull his leg out of the bone mender as it beeps in completion.

The stupid tool was probably the breaking point, even if they didn’t know that Anakin was harbouring Rex, he still brought the guards to Anakin’s front door.

His leg is tender when he tries to stand and he almost falls to the floor twice, but the bone doesn’t shatter or collapse. His leg is ruined for the meantime but the quick fix would do its part in getting him to the city.

The city itself is massive, they could be taking Anakin anywhere, but he knows that Abulon and Radora are cruel men with even larger egos. They will broadcast Anakin’s execution from in front of the palace to the entire city.

He has to act quickly, he may not even have three days, save Anakin or grab a ship first? Once he grabs the swamp man the entire city will be in a lockdown, it will be near impossible to reach the impound lot. He knows the moment he disrupts the execution the guards will shoot to kill.

On the other hand, the moment he brings a ship in close the cannons will start firing at him in a matter of minutes, they could have the ship in fiery pieces before they even pull away.

Ship or Anakin, ship or Anakin.

Fuck.

He bustles around the house ripping open drawers and closets looking for anything that could be used as a weapon. In the hall he finds a dark Jedi robe hanging untouched in the dark collecting dust, he pulls it on. He disappears into the folds of the fabric that are slightly too big for him but it gets the job done. He looks nothing like himself.

“C’mon, there has to be something here that I can use as a weapon.” Rex mutters to himself shoving through another closet. He almost gives up and regals the fact that he would be going up against armed guards with a kitchen knife.

Not the best odds, but just as he’s about to storm out of the house, he sees it. A hatch under the carpet and he smirks. Of course, a man like Anakin would have a hidden bunker, he just hopes it’s not a secret sex dungeon. He shakes away the intrusive thought as he slides down the ladder, wincing as his boots hit the ground hard. He isn’t fully healed yet, he has to remember his limits.

The air is damp and humid making the pitch-black dark seem claustrophobic as he fumbles for a light switch. The deeper he moves into the underground cave the hotter it gets until he unintentionally slaps a mental panel, activating a blinding row of overhead lights.

Lights, that reveal a workshop with probably the most beautiful speeder he has ever seen and walls of modified blasters. A true doomsday bunker in every sense of the word. Anakin was ready to go to war without even having an army.

“Anakin, you’re a force send. I’ll see you very soon. I promise.” Rex whispers as he cocks one of the guns with a smirk, it hums under his fingers with power, it feels like a homecoming.

He doesn’t have time to lose as he straps as much weaponry onto his body as he can before throwing the supplies he’s scavenged into the saddles of the speeder with a plan forming in his head.

He will crash Anakin’s execution first and save the man before jumping onto the first ship they see. Either way, he spins it they won’t make it to Radora’s impound lot, but several big names will want front row seats to his execution, they could easily grab a luxury yacht and be in orbit in minutes.

Without a second thought, he jumps onto the speeder and revs its engines before speeding along the launch ramp to save the man that would do the same thing for him.


	11. What if I am Really Him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

Obi-Wan stares open-mouthed at the hilt Ahsoka is holding with a white-knuckled grip as she holds it out for him to take. There’s no denying it, it’s his lightsaber.

But if he touches it, will it disappear in a wisp of smoke?

He sucks in a breath that he doesn’t feel in his lungs as he runs his fingers along the metal. The crystal recognizes him instantaneously and greets him like an excitable dog whose owner has been away for far too long.

He numbly listens to Ahsoka as she explains that the Mandalorians had striped Pre Vizsla of Anakin’s stolen lightsaber after they had captured him. But she doesn’t need to explain any further for him to feel how the crystal aches with a bone-deep pain from being ripped away from Anakin’s hands.

He wonders if Vizsla cut his hand off to get his lightsaber, if they had desecrated Anakin’s body further, it wouldn’t be surprising if they spat on Anakin as well.

Death Watch is a terrorist organization they should have known that they were behind the attack. They didn’t value human life, let alone the life of a Jedi, he wonders if the attack was meant for them. He should have gone back to the temple, he should have looked harder for the boy he had raised. He should have searched every single inch of the destroyed temple for Anakin, there was so much he could’ve done…But he didn’t, why didn’t he?

He hadn’t even teased the idea that Anakin could be alive, why had he just accepted the fact that Anakin had died so easily? He had been the chosen one, he had managed to wiggle out of worse straights, repeatedly and had returned to the Temple each time. The tiny flickering flame of hope that he had held up against a hurricane of doubt, the flame that said Anakin could still be alive has been permanently snuffed out as he holds his lightsaber.

Even if he did survive the collapse there’s only one-way Death Watch could have gotten his lightsaber. He didn’t try hard enough and he had left his brother to be gunned down by terrorists.

 _Obi-Wan…You’re squeezing me too tight….!_ The crystal warbles, the voice comes as such a surprise that he almost drops Anakin’s blade.

“Oh, I’m sorry...” He mumbles, looking down it does look like he’s gripping the hilt with enough force to snap it in half.

 _Where’s Anakin…?_ He doesn’t have an answer for the crystal, he’s even surprised the crystal is strong enough to even communicate with him through the Force. But the bond between Anakin and his lightsaber had always been strong, he had treasured the blade like a sacred gift and it shows with how the crystal can speak freely as he holds it in his hands.

The stronger the bond the more the crystal can materialize as a being in the Force.

Crystals are intimately connected to their Master through the Force, to rip one away from a Jedi would be traumatic enough to crack them or corrupt them beyond repair. How Anakin’s remained intact for so long while suffering under the abuse of Vizsla as he owned it is a mystery in its won right, it shouldn’t have been possible…

Unless.

He can’t be the one to break the crystal’s spirit after enduring so much for so long.

“He’s not here right now, but he’ll be back soon.” Obi-Wan replies with a grimace.

Ahsoka looks at him bewildered, he probably looks crazy talking to himself, he’s unsure if she can here Anakin’s crystal when it tries to speak with her or just its raw emotions.

 _Will he be back soon…?_ It asks hopefully, its eagerness bright in the force.

“Yes, very soon, but for now let's get you fixed up, you’ve been through a lot.” Obi-Wan replies and the crystal goes quiet with a content hum.

He delicately places Anakin’s blade on the desk and he flops down on the couch in the middle of the room. He doesn’t know what to think. The trial is set for tomorrow mid-day, but he questions whether or not he can fulfill the role of peacekeeper knowing that the man on trial probably had gunned Anakin down for the sole purpose of flaunting his lightsaber like a trophy? He had promised Jango that his son would receive the justice that is long overdue, he knows so much rides on the success of their mission. But now, as he always seems to be, he is again torn in so many different directions, like the galaxy itself is asking too much of him.

“Master Kenobi…I’m sorry…” Ahsoka says with her head bowed.

“My dear, whatever are you sorry for? I should be thanking you, you brought a piece of Anakin back to us, a piece that I thought we would never see again.” Obi-Wan says gently.

“It’s just….I should have waited, we’re supposed to keep our emotions from clouding our judgement…Knowing that Pre Vizsla has had Anakin’s lightsaber all this time, I don’t know if I can keep my hatred from affecting my judgement. I’ve tried releasing it into the force but something in me always brings it back, I know hatred isn’t the Jedi way but I don’t think I can ever look at Pre Vizsla and not hate him.” Ahsoka admits, downtrodden.

Obi-Wan takes several minutes to collect his thoughts.

“Ahsoka, you have encountered one of the many challenges you will face in your trials as well during your time as a Jedi, separating yourself from your emotions is a constant battle and you will come across many situations where you feel like you can’t. But you must trust yourself, you already understand how important this mission is and I have faith that you will represent the Order as one of our best. You cannot force emotions, you can only trust that in time they will fade into something more manageable.” Obi-wan explains.

“But will that be enough?” Ahsoka asks.

“Most often it is, but you will have to draw upon everything you have ever been taught as a Jedi in order for this mission to be a success, trust in your abilities Ahsoka.” Obi-Wan explains.

“I will Master Kenobi, I will.” She says firmly.

* * *

He wakes with a groan, everything in his body feels like it’s been pulled too tight and his head pounds like a drum.

“Finally awake…? You know for the famed monster that lives in the swamp you don’t look like much.” Someone grouses in a high nasally voice from above him.

Upside-down, he’s upside-down.

He remembers… They had shown up at his front door and he had turned himself in to protect Rex. They must have knocked him unconscious after putting the bag over his head, he doesn’t remember being dragged into this particular jail cell.

He shivers as more of his sense catch up to his waking brain to tell him how uncomfortable he is, the cell itself is a small square and miserably cold. They’ve taken his clothes and have left him to hang in nothing but his undergarments.

“I’m sorry to disappoint?” Anakin asks, only to have a staff slammed into his ribs, the force of the blow leaves him swinging in his restraints as he wheezes and coughs.

“Not only have you been quite the thorn in my side, terrorizing my citizens but you have been keeping someone hidden that belongs to me…Where is he?!” The Ongree shrieks before his restraints electrify to send volts painful shocks through his body. He can feel how his skin sizzles and the awful smell of burning hair reaches his nose after the electricity fades.

They aren’t here for small talk then. His vision becomes adjusted in the darkness and he sees who the Ongree actually is, if what he has said hasn’t told him already. But it is hard to mistake the Govern of Commerce of the planet, everyone knows who Radora is.

“I can smell that whore on you, did he let you fuck him so he could hide from me in your pathetic shack?” The Ongree asks, he doesn’t even need to use his powers to feel how furious the man before him is.

“I have no idea who you’re talking about, I just live in the swamp.” Anakin says and instead of another shouted question, he’s shocked again. This time the electricity is stronger and it leaves him gasping for air.

“Don’t lie to me! Where is the Mandalorian! Where is Fett!” Radora continues to shriek.

“You don’t own him anymore, you never did.” Anakin tells him with a flirty smirk.

“I don’t know why you’re smiling, I will make him watch as I kill you, then I’ll keep him chained to my bed, he will never know freedom ever again if he’s stupid enough to enter the city to try and save you.” Radora hisses at him.

Fear swirls around them and he’s almost tempted to just knock the man unconscious and escape but as he tries to reach for his powers, electricity courses through his body again.

If the torture wasn’t so painful, he would say that the routine is getting old, electricity is effective at being painful but it sure gets boring.

However, he hasn’t said anything that has warranted a shock, unless they had it set up on an interval timer to shock him just for the sake of shocking him.

But even with that as an explanation, being shocked when he tried to reach for his power didn’t make sense.

“You look confused…Did you not think that we wouldn’t find out what you are…Jedi?” Radora asks smarmily.

“I’m not a Jedi.” Anakin wheezes back, Radora only laughs in his face.

“More lies? I thought your kind was supposed to be truthful? It was easy enough to find you in the system with a bio-scan. Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight of the Coruscant Order, quite impressive, you were one of their best warriors. Your file said that you’ve been dead for half a decade, what are you doing all the way out here playing house with a Mandalorian Prince?” Radora hisses in his face.

Jedi? Rex had asked the same thing when he first saw that he could speak to the forest. He knew that his powers aren’t normal ever since he awoke alone on the planet, he knew that the people in the city were different, that they couldn’t do what he could. But a Jedi? Everyone seems to expect him to know what a Jedi is, and he doesn’t.

“Oh…You don’t remember who you are, do you? Quite a shame indeed…Either way, it doesn’t matter, you’ll be executed in the next morning anyways to give my citizens peace knowing that we have caught the monster of the swamp. Don’t try using your power anytime soon, while you don’t look very bright, I’m sure you’ve realized that when you try using the Force you’ll get a shock.” Radora says as he storms away, slamming the door behind him.

Suddenly, the restraints holding him by his feet release him and send him crashing to the hard stones below. Anakin groans as he shakes his head trying to blink through the rush of blood to the rest of his body after it spent however many hours pooling in his head.

When his head doesn’t feel so stuffed with cotton, the first thing he notices is a metal device that curls up his arm like a metal snake connected to several pegs that are lodge into his right pectoral. This must be the device that blocks him from reaching his power that Radora mentioned.

He’s going to have to believe that Rex will make it in time and rely on the other skills he’s used to survive that aren’t the mystic Force. He isn’t a damsel in distress, and they’ve made the mistake of underestimating him. Jedi or not his power doesn’t solely rely on if he can con control the Force or not.

If he truly is Anakin Skywalker than he needs to live long enough to find out who he was, did he leave people behind? Were those the people he keeps seeing in his dreams, have they been calling out to him this entire time? He needs to know, and he’s wasted enough time staying on the planet.

Escape, find Rex, steal a ship, return Rex to Mandalore, find the Jedi Order and get his answers, simple. At least he hopes it’s simple, but he knows hoping for everything to go smoothly is a shot in the dark. With his luck, he’ll have a wife and children waiting for him back in his old life while he’s fallen in love with a Prince from Mandalore in this life.

Wouldn’t that be a kicker?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a little head cannon that the crystals are more developed/sentient and can form their own personality and communicate with Force users the stronger the bond is between Jedi and crystal.


	12. Don't Drown, It's a Long Way Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The city sings for blood and it turns his stomach, these people will cower in fear of the unknown instead of meeting a challenge head-on but revelled in the power the public execution gave them. Like they were the ones who had conquered Anakin after bowing to his shadow for so long. It’s a pathetic display from a weak people who stand for nothing, who believed that bluster would keep them safe in their steel haven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellloooooooooo, I really wanted to update this chapter last week but alas I did start a new term at my college so I'll be a lot busier now that I'm no longer in co-op. I do want to keep posting new works as well just so I can get the creative out and posted but My current/half-finished will be updated regularly for as long as I can!
> 
> Also a quick warning for gore/violence and graphic depictions of violence.

It goes like this.

The press of bodies makes sweat gather along his hairline and trail down the indent of his spine, Anakin’s robes are heavy and they pull his shoulders down. As much as the weight and heat of the cloth make him incredibly uncomfortable while he pushes through the bustling streets he can’t risk pulling the hood back for even a moment.

The moment Radora or Abulon get a whiff of him he’s basically walked himself to the gallows. One-shot, he’s got one shot to get this right with his dinky little machete and his bare hands. If he fails the only man that has shown him any kindness, a man he has grown to love in their short time will die and it will be his fault. After Anakin dies before him, and he knows Radora will make him watch, he’ll either spend the rest of his life as a slave forced to live as a trophy or Radora will kill him for being too much trouble.

So, no pressure.

The city sings for blood and it turns his stomach, these people will cower in fear of the unknown instead of meeting a challenge head-on but revelled in the power the public execution gave them. Like they were the ones who had conquered Anakin after bowing to his shadow for so long. It’s a pathetic display from a weak people who stand for nothing, who believed that bluster would keep them safe in their steel haven.

It makes him ache for Mandalore more than ever before, he needs to go home where people had honour and the grit to back it up. He’ll tear Abulon and Radora apart with his bare hands if he has to.

He wonders if they know that he’s coming for them, for all they know he could be rotting in the bog, long dead from his injuries. But he has learned that as much as he despises the corrupt duo, Radora and Abulon are anything but stupid.

They may be using Anakin to lure him out, it has probably been their plan all along. If he had been anyone else it may have worked but he isn’t just anyone. Their plan is cocky and a severe miscalculation on their part, they do not know what he is capable of, he has never been anything but a slave with an electric collar around his neck to them. Forced to bow to or reap painful consequences, but years of disdain have been building in his heart up until this moment and now he is free to reign his vengeance down on their existences.

But he knows that this is not a plan meant for revenge, he would never forgive himself if Anakin died for his own selfish want, he must keep his head clear. He will save Anakin and return him to where he belongs and then he will return with an army to claim the revenge he wants so badly.

So, it goes like this.

He shoves past boisterous civilians far too drunk and celebratory for the public death of a man that is greater than any of them combined.

The sun beats down on him high in the sky while humidity hangs in the air thickly, he’s never hated a planet more but he cracks past the thickest part of the crowd. Radora and his minions have dragged Anakin to have him kneel next to an electric guillotine, because, of course they would. Barbaric down to their bones, he shoves forward with frantic energy settling in his bones pushing his broken body far faster than it ever has the right to do. People shove back, but he is stronger, he has always been stronger, so when civilians impact with that hard smooth stone of the palace grounds he doesn’t feel pity. He feels nothing but a single-minded fury that powers him through the pain, the agony of his barely healed leg is nothing but a meaningless throb.

Radora speaks through a microphone that reverberates his distasteful voice to the roaring crowd, all calling for blood. They call for death so they can maybe grab onto the coattails of what real power feels like.

Fury turns to rage or maybe rage turns to fury, the feeling is all-consuming, it turns the edges of his vision red. He feels like a barely chained animal, he can distantly hear his father’s voice reminding him that his anger will be the death of him but it powers him, it makes him strong.

He gets close enough to see a black metal device twisted into his skin, marring his pale skin and he slides the machete from his belt. Panic and pain and worry are crushed under the foot of his lust for blood.

He’ll kill them for ever harming Anakin, for ever making him suffer indignities far below him, Anakin deserved the galaxy and he would give it to him even if the path soaks him in blood.

He’s already spotted an idling ship, whoever has left it is pathetically stupid but it would be to his benefit that a noble to think the streets of the commonwealth would be a safe place for the ship. While gaudy and nearing on the scale of downright hideous it will do.

He can almost taste Radora’s and Abulon’s blood on his tongue, a wine so delectable it should be made illegal, it’s intoxicating. He finally shoves his way to the front like a wave of dark churning water breaking through a damn and the guards crumble beneath the force of his anger. They would have been formidable in a fair fight, but the moment Rex drove into the city like a mad man their fates had been sealed, no poorly trained guards were ever going to match his skill.

He is his father’s son, a prince of Mandalore and he would make sure that everyone remembered it until their pitiful lives ended. He grabs the cheap blaster from a guard choking on his own blood and the crowd starts to realize what is about to happen, people start to scream, their sounds of fear are a sinful melody and it makes him grin like a maniac.

The guards fall one by one, each with well-aimed bolts that split their heads and chests open in showers of blue gore that splatter onto him and the stone making them slick as the tangy smell of copper fills the air. The bloodthirsty citizens suddenly become nothing but mindless heard animals pushing at each other in a blind panic as they flee from his carnage.

“Radora!” He shouts and the Ongree falls back in fear, good, he should fear him. Abulon is nowhere to be seen but he isn’t the one who had, several seconds ago, his filthy hand in Anakin’s hair to force his head into the electric guillotine.

Covered in blood he inches forward, gun in had aimed straight at the Ongree’s scowling face as Anakin rolls away with a pained groan, knowing that the man is in pain spurs on his anger. However, much to his disappointment the Ongree doesn’t cower or beg for his life, he doesn’t barganing for mercy, he only scowls stubbornly. Maybe he doesn’t think Rex will do it, even as he’s soaked to the bone in blood from his other victims.

In the end, he doesn’t have time to waste, he puts a single bolt in between his eyes and the man’s head explodes with a fountain of green gore. He doesn’t even have time to feel sick at the sight, he wonders when the feeling of pulling the trigger and finally killing a man that has brought him nothing but pain will feel cathartic.

He wonders when it will feel right, for now he feels nothing.

He pitifully tries to scrub the blue blood from his hands before he crouches next to Anakin, he doesn’t want to mark the man’s skin with the burden of death that is not his to carry. He wonders if the ones he killed today will haunt him like the other faceless ghosts that appear to taunt him in his nightmares.

He pushes the directionless thoughts away, none of them matter, Anakin still needs his help. It won’t be long before reinforcements come from all over the capital, the ship is right there, all he has to do is grab Anakin and run, run as fast as his legs can take him.

He hauls Anakin from the ground and ignores how the man moans in pain, ignores how the man stumbles and barely catches himself to force himself to keep up with Rex’s pace. The bullets fly past them, a storm of red rains down on them as the reinforcements converge on their escape.

He feels one graze his ear and the hot blood that trails down his neck pushes him faster, faster still.

The ship is ugly up close and the sun sears his bloody ear and Anakin is nearly unconscious, practically limp in his grip as he forces the man far past his abilities to move.

He almost slips on the bloody soles of his boots but they make it when he scrambles up the ramp. He slams the docking ramp closed and as gently as he can in his adrenaline-fueled rush he places Anakin in a chair and straps him in before he throws himself in the captain’s seat and throttles the ship's engines to blast them into orbit. In mere seconds the sky turns from blue to black and he clenches his hands so hard on the wheel he fears he’ll be stuck holding it forever.

He blindly set hyperspace coordinates, he aches to see the trails, he doesn’t know where the coordinates lead, but as long as they’re away from Dandoran he doesn’t care.

There’s so much more he needs to do but for once, maybe for the first time in years, he allows himself to cry after watching the trails of blue slip past the viewports. Hysterical sobs of relief, he can’t stop the ugly choking noises coming from his mouth even if he could, even as his body runs out of moisture to give he still cries.

He’s finally going home.

* * *

Anakin moans in relief when he feels the pull and release of metal sliding out of his skin, even half awake it feels like coming into a new body as his powers flood back into his veins. He’s not a fan of waking up and not knowing where he is but for the past few days, it seems to be a repeating pattern.

“Sorry it took me so long to get it off, Radora changed his locking codes for devices like these.” A man says, and he knows the man like he knows his own amnesiac heart, even blind he could point Rex out in a crowd

“Rex…” Anakin says as a wave of relief washes over him, the man is with him, he is safe, they are safe.

He remembers how the man had saved him, but how he had felt so wrong in his mind, like a different man driven mad by an all-consuming rage. Now he just feels distant, the rage is still at the very edge, just in reach and ready to drown everything around them. But he still feels everything that makes the man flicker playfully against his mind, ex has not lost himself to the madness of anger.

The anger unnerves him but the blurry visage above him is still the man he had foolishly fallen for.

“Hey…Welcome back….” Rex whispers, he’s still crusted in blue blood and the sight turns his stomach. He’s no stranger to battle, but Rex had torn through the guards like paper, they hadn’t even stood a chance and the viciousness of the attack feels needless.

But he doesn’t tell the fragile man that, he needs time to come back to himself. He can see how tear tracks split the crusting blue blood on his cheeks and he knows that he needs to tread carefully.

“You came for me...” Anakin says breathlessly as he tries to push himself up even as Rex tries to keep him down, his arm is in a sling and covered in cooling patches. They’re down two limbs between the both of them, the thought would be funny if his arm didn’t throb painfully with his heartbeat.

“Of course, I did, Anakin you mean more to mee that I can put into words. You saved me and there’s not a life where I would ever leave you behind.” Rex says shakily, his words make heat bloom in his chest.

“I would do the same for you, always. Now, where are we?” Anakin asks, Rex seems more cohesive the more time goes by, so he keeps the man talking.

“Hyperspace, I didn’t put exact coordinates, but I checked and the nav computer says the ship is going to put us somewhere near Florrum, it’s about 3 days in hyperspace, we can ditch the ship and buy a new one before heading to Mandalore.” Rex tells him as he itches his cheek, blood flaking off.

“Sounds like a plan, whose ship are we even on?” Anakin asks looking around, it’s a luxurious med-bay, at least as far as med-bays go, the walls ooze nobility.

“I stole a ship parked near the palace, didn’t exactly ask the owner to borrow the keys but I checked the records and I’ve never heard of his name so no one we should concerned about.” Rex says, the man is getting twitchy and he hopes he says the right thing when he says:

“Give me the grand tour? Starting with the ‘fresher? I feel like a dried-out jungle slug… You can join me if you want.” Anakin says tentatively and he almost jumps in surprise when Rex slumps to the ground next to his bed.

“You must think I’m some kind of monster.” Rex mumbles, he can’t tell if it’s shame or anger that colours his tone.

“I think you were a man that did what needed to be done, what’s done is done and I’m not here to judge you, now c’mon we’re both disgusting and we need to get you back in a leg brace, then we’ll eat and rest.” Anakin says as he gathers his strength to slip out of bed. Rex tows him along by an invisible string as he follows him to probably the biggest ‘fresher he has ever seen.

They will talk about their feelings eventually, he’s quite sure, even after living in a swamp for five years that near love confessions can’t just be left hanging unanswered. Emotions aside, they made it off the hellhole of a planet and he’s going to enjoy their victory. For now, he’s going to enjoy the feeling of hot water beat down on his back and the solid press of Rex along his front naked and alive in all his glory.

Reality will catch up to them eventually but for now, he just cards his hands through blonde hair like he has all the time in the galaxy to just stay in the shower and ignore everything but Rex.


	13. A Vile Man Indeed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He tosses the Darksaber to the Mandalorian who catches it with ease before he ignites the black blade, he feels the moment the other warriors acknowledge the igniting of the Darksaber, as soon as Jango shouts:
> 
> “For Mandalore!” The Mandalorians start fighting with vigour, as if each of them had been possessed by the warriors of the past. All determined to defend their homeland against their countrymen who have forsaken their way of life.

Vizsla is vile, no other word to quite describe him, his representative may be worse, the jury is filled with helmeted men and women. Their T-Visors expressionless as they sit stock still in perfect rows, it's unnerving. They feel more like an execution squad than the fair judgement that they are supposed to be, but he knew the moment that he had accepted this mission that this wasn’t going to be an ordinary trial.

The man that stands on the prosecution platform in a burgundy prison jumpsuit looking far too smug for a man with his arm chained tightly behind his back. But still, he holds his head high to jut his chin out defiantly. He’s seen the look plenty of times while living among the ruling house of Mandalore, it is a blatant expression of challenge.

He clenches his hands under the secrecy of his cloak, it’s obvious the man before them thinks he is entitled to whatever he is owed. A man so obsessed with birthright that he cannot fathom the fact that he is simply not worthy of the things he craves.

Next to him, Ahsoka feels like a tightly coiled spring, anger and contempt thrum from her like a blaring siren, yet she remains passive. He won’t tell her to quell her feelings, repressing and denying such feelings would only leave them to rot her from the inside out. He knows his padawan will learn to handle her own emotions in her own way in time, but for now he returns his attention back to Vizsla.

The man oscillates between sneering at him and Ahsoka to smirking and leering at Jango’s impassive presence. He gives the Mandalorian credit where credit is due, his expression has not changed once since Vizsla has entered. He’s even more surprised by the fact that he had decided to forgo his helmet.

Maybe staring the man down without the cover of his helmet is meant to say something. His sons stand like sentries around the room and he knows whatever happens in this house of law will be broadcasted all over the planet by the next day. The weight of the tension is crushing as the judge stands, a dark-skinned woman with white clan tattoos dressed in regal judge robes, she is not unlike the judges enacting judgment on Coruscant.

However, Pre Vizsla ignores the woman completely, his eyes glued to Jango, or more likely the things missing from Jango.

The Darksaber feels heavy as it hangs from his belt next to his lightsabers, a weapon like no other. He’s not ashamed to say that he stared with his mouth hanging open as Jango held out the sacred heirloom of Mandalorian leaders before they entered the room.

 _“Take it…” Jango says gruffly and rather reluctantly, looking pained at the fact that he is holding out the Darksaber for Jedi to take_.

_“Whatever for? You know I have no claim to this blade, so you can excuse me for being a little lost.” Obi-Wan had replies keeping his hands crossed over his chest, Jango only scowls at him and huffs aggravatingly as he cards his hand through his hair, probably on the far side of discomfort._

_A wave of emotions passes through his eyes, coming and going far too quickly for him to sus out what they mean, he wouldn’t parse the man’s mind either. Days and days of trying to earn the man’s trust has apparently come to fruition when he hadn’t been paying attention, he won’t shatter the delicate trust by inserting himself where he doesn’t have permission to be._

_“Vizsla only wants one thing more than to just simply make my life miserable, there is no doubt in my mind that he will make an attempt to claim the Darksaber once he’s close enough. I need you to keep it safe for me. I have no idea what will happen today, but I know that the Darksaber cannot fall into his hands. Please Obi-Wan, take it, keep it safe for me. I know I haven’t left the most dazzling impression on you but…” Jango trails off stiffly, irritation and discomfort line every inch of his body._

_He gently takes the blade out of Jango’s loose grip before he tucks the square hilt under the safety of his cloak._

_“Jango, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. I see a man who has lost his son to a terrorist, I said to trust me when we first met when I say I know exactly how you feel. I will protect the Darksaber with my life, you have my word.” Obi-Wan says resting a hand on the other’s shoulder and Jango slumps slightly._

_“Thank you Obi-Wan, it seems I have gravely misjudged you. I will have to treat you a drink once this is all over.” Jango says ruefully and Obi-wan returns the good humour._

_Mandalorians start to shuffle into the courtroom and he tugs his hood over his head._

_“I do fancy the bourbon you brew on Mandalore, if there’s a glass with my name on it once this is all over then I think we can end this mess knowing both of our sons have received the justice they so thoroughly deserve.” Obi-Wan says from the shade of his cloak before he turns to file in with Ahsoka by his side._

“Pre Vizsla of house Vizsla, you are accused of high treason against the Mand’alor, Mandalore and her citizens do you dispute these claims that have been laid against you?” The judge declares stoically.

Pre Vizsla smirks before levelling his face into an expression of perfect diplomacy. It makes him nervous.

“You great honour, my followers and I are merely a peaceful group who want to show the people of Mandalore the true corruption of the ruling Fett clan. That they are leading us astray, that simply stealing the Darksaber from my clan doesn’t make Jango Fett the true leader of Mandalore.” Pre Vizsla says with enough grandeur Obi-Wan almost wonder if he’s putting on a show or stalling for time.

The impassive visors tell him that the man on his pedestal has no allies in the room, yet he had volunteered to walk into to the courtroom bound and defenceless.

Jango had been right, the man is trying to use this trial to instil distrust in the people, turning himself into a martyr in the most public way.

A vile man indeed.

“Explain your attack on the palace of the Mand’alor and the subsequent capture of Prince Rex.” The judge asks, suspicions colouring her tone. He doesn’t blame her, a group called Death Watch doesn’t normally instil feelings of peace.

“Your honour, my men were only defending ourselves from an attack, Jango Fett invited me to his palace to discuss ways to improve Mandalore and to reunite the clans when we were attacked by Prince Rex. He killed many of my men and we were barely able to subdue him.” Pre Vizsla declares, he can see Ahsoka grab Gree’s wrist as the older Prince jerks forwards.

Anger thrums from the princes like a war drum, he grimaces as he pushes through the turbulent emotions filling the room.

“And what of the recording sent to Mand’alor Fett and the subsequent record of your personal ship meeting with that of a Zygerrian slave ship? You should know well enough that human trafficking and slavery are highly illegal under Mandalorian law, Pre Vizsla of House Vizsla.” The Judge says with a slight bite.

The room fills with an icy silence as Vizsla’s face morphs from one of cool pacifism to inhumanly enraged in the span of several seconds, something has changed. Something has happened, the feeling of having walked into a trap hits him in the stomach like a freight-speeder.

“Funnily, enough that you mention that your honour…I did sell Jango’s pathetic whore of a son, I couldn’t let the way that he had ruined my plans go unpunished. Your honour, I was hoping for this to be a civil affair but unfortunately for you, you asked far too many questions.” He growls.

“Where is my son Vizsla!” Jango bellows as he stalks towards him.

“I sold him to a petty crime lord on Dandoran, how does it feel knowing I reduced your son to a petty pleasure slave Fett? How does it feel knowing you failed? You are unfit to be the ruler of Mandalore.” Vizsla screams back as he lunges for Jango, his hand inexplicably free from his cuffs.

Then, like a staged holo-drama, the windows of the courthouse crash in as Death Watch members flood in. He ignites the two blue blades on his belt, asking Anakin’s crystal to give him strength as he shoves a now free Pre Vizsla back from Jango, blocking several yellow blaster bolts from slicing through Jango’s body.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Ahsoka with her ignited green blades protecting the judge as she flees the courtroom. The sounds of the city-wide alarm shrieks through the air as he continues to deflect bolts aimed at Jango.

He tosses the Darksaber to the Mandalorian who catches it with ease before he ignites the black blade, he feels the moment the other warriors acknowledge the igniting of the Darksaber, as soon as Jango shouts:

“For Mandalore!” The Mandalorians start fighting with vigour, as if each of them had been possessed by the warriors of the past. All determined to defend their homeland against their countrymen who have forsaken their way of life.

* * *

“Well, that was…” Obi-Wan says, trailing off as he twists his free hand in the air like he would be able to pluck the words right out of the air.

“Eventful? Completely expected?” Jango offers as his tumbler of distilled alcohol hangs just in front of his lips.

Fucking Vizsla, fucking lucky shot. The bacta patch of his shoulder itches and he feels like another level of exposed and naked in just a thin blue tunic his doctor had slapped on him after treating his blaster wound.

He can’t remember the last time a member outside his family had seen him out of armour for more than an hour. Yet, now a Jedi sits barely a few feet away knocking back his own alcohol, a sworn enemy stares at him lazily through a haze of several glasses of bourbon.

After Death Watch had been beaten back, after Vizsla had escaped the Jedi immediately began seeing to the wounded. Ensuring everyone had been seen too, they worked diligently, listening carefully to the instructions given as they bandaged and patched his warriors, _his citizens_ back together.

Another battle won, another battle survived.

The cycle continues, he survives, he endures.

The weight of the Darksaber has returned to his belt and he continues as the leader of Mand’alor, Pre Vizsla would be back. He probably wouldn’t stop until one of them is dead but for now, he enjoys the victory.

Something has changed between him and the Jedi, Obi-Wan no longer looks at him with wary curiosity, instead, his eyes pin him with a smouldering gaze that burns his skin. He pulls at his shirt instinctively to try and relieve himself of the heat he suddenly feels.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s something else.

“I was going to say quite a show but both work well enough, I should have been more prepared for an attack and for that I apologize, I had not expected for Vizsla to pull a stunt that bold.” Obi-Wan says pouring himself several more fingers, at this point they are going to finish the entire bottle in the dark lighting of his study.

The setting is intimate in a way that he hasn’t experienced in a very long time, once when he was a younger man most of his nights ended like this. But back then there was always a rush, passion making him and Myles or Kamina clumsy as they pawed at their armour letting the beskar fall to the ground carelessly.

Now, he would feel content in just sharing the quiet drink with the Jedi.

He scowls slightly when he thinks about it, the way his sons had left in a hurry with Obi-Wan’s student to leave him and Obi-Wan alone for the night. He knew they seemed far too smug for their own good when they all scuttled away.

“What’s next for the Mand’alor?” Obi-Wan asks and he tries to shift into a less splayed sitting position.

“I cannot, _not_ search for my son knowing where he was sent after Vizsla sold him, I have to go after him, even if the wretch is lying, I cannot live with myself if I just do nothing.” Jango admits swirling his tumbler.

“Ahsoka and I will come with you…” The Jedi starts to say.

“There is really no need, you and your learner have completed your mission, Vizsla may not be in jail but he is now an astute criminal to the Mandalorian empire. The faith of my people remains strong and thus we enjoy another day without needless bloodshed and political strife” Jango says shaking his head.

The Jedi adopts a stubborn jut to his chin and his eyes flare with something he can’t decipher.

“I’ve dedicated my life to weeding out corruption and ensuring justice all over the galaxy, my dear Jango I never consider my job done, let alone the justice for your son. If you believe he is still out there then I shall accompany you with Ahsoka, if there is a slave trade on Dandoran the Jedi need to know of it as well so others don’t suffer needlessly.” Obi-Wan says with a fierce look in his eyes, he freezes under the gaze and his blood rushes in all different directions.

“Thank you, Obi-Wan…I…” The words die on his lips and he makes his decision, one he may regret in several seconds, but he has never been one to back out of his choices, even his bad ones.

The Jedi stares at him silently as he shuffles into his space, caging him in on his chair. They stare at each other for several long moments until a teasing smirk crawls over the Jedi’s face.

“While we do have all night, I’d rather you kiss me now if that’s what you plan on doing Jango.” Obi-Wan says huskily as he slides a hand around the back of his neck.

He can only nod like an idiot as he leans in to kiss the Jedi, he tastes like bourbon and spice and he kisses the Jedi like a dying man, Obi-Wan responds in kind to deepen the kiss.

They do have all night, and in a way, he knows he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in this moment as he slides into Obi-Wan’s lap.


	14. This couch is so ugly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn’t want to return to his previous life if he had been a monster… On the other hand, as this Anakin he can’t disappoint anyone by being himself…Rex had risked his life to come to save him, that has to mean something, that has to mean that as this Anakin he’s doing something good with his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry for the few weeks delay, school has literally been eating my ass :') and I'm a comp-sci major so I get no mercy but I've updated almost all my fics if you follow me generally and hopefully I can bang out a few more updates more consistently!

The datapad blinks and blinks and blinks and…He shuts it off and rubs his face roughly, only grimacing slightly as the muscles in his chest pull uncomfortably. Apparently knowing that he’s a Jedi doesn’t allow him to claim any of the benefits. Even if he only knows vaguely what a Jedi is, if being one could make the ache in his shoulder go away sooner, he would wholeheartedly take the easy ticket out of his current and rather miserable recovery.

They’ve been in hyperspace for about a day and a half and he’s beginning to feel slightly stir-crazy. Apparently, the auto-pilot commands are unchangeable once the coordinates have been set, convenient for a rich fuck who doesn’t know how to fly a ship but inconvenient for them. A trip to Florrum means an extra trip back along the way they came to reach Mandalore and…he guesses he’s going to end up on Coruscant, for whatever reason.

Which brings him back to the idling datapad sitting next to him on the hideously red but luxury comfortable couch.

He has sat with his datapad just one step away from opening every single public record available about Anakin Skywalker, but he couldn’t bring himself to dive into the files, so he had just stared blankly at the screen. He isn’t Anakin Skywalker, sometimes he isn’t even the Anakin from the swamp. It feels like he’s living a double life but knows nothing about either one.

Anakin Skywalker is dead and reading about his old life in an attempt to revitalize himself would be an insult to everyone who had known him before. Pretending to be someone he isn’t wouldn’t last long with the people who had truly known him, because simply, he has no idea who he had been before. Had he even been a person worth living as? Worth remembering? The people in his dreams always sound either terrified or angry, sometimes happy but not enough of the time to make his dreams worth revisiting.

He doesn’t want to return to his previous life if he had been a monster… On the other hand, as this Anakin he can’t disappoint anyone by being himself…Rex had risked his life to come to save him, that has to mean something, that has to mean that as this Anakin he’s doing something good with his life.

Speaking of Rex, the man is dozing next to him, he had drifted off after they had finished dinner. They had taken full advantage of the expensive stores on the ship and he had tried to not show how affected he had been by the amount of spice Rex had added into the stew. He knows the Prince could probably tell by the way he kept looking over him and with his inability to keep a straight face. Even at his own expense, he’s glad the Prince had a reason to laugh. He had been worried about the state of his mind after he had spent the majority of the first day barely present, he just drifted around the ship occupying his time with mundane tasks.

In his vengeful spree against Radora he had lost a bit of himself in the gore and mindless violence, it showed him first and foremost that Rex is no ordinary Prince, he is a warrior to be feared. He isn’t sure who had been more frightened by his actions at the execution, Rex or himself once reality became a little clearer for them both.

He knew Rex thought that he had been disgusted with him, he wasn’t, he probably would have done the exact same thing to his captures if he had been in Rex’s position, that probably made him a bad Jedi, but he is no Jedi. But, he didn’t quite have the words to explain to Rex that he didn’t find him disgusting or abhorrent, the man would probably refuse to accept any words of comfort anyways.

He had resorted to touch instead, gently coaxing him into allowing him to check him over and strap his leg into a medical-grade brace. If he saw Rex turn his head away to hide his tears as he lovingly stroked his hair away from his face, he wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up.

Bandaged and fed and well-rested they can’t do much more than stare out of the viewports as the hyperspace trails streak past. He’s never seen them before, _he doesn’t think_ , they’re memorizing in their beauty.

Rex snuffles slightly in his sleep, his body unconsciously leaning towards him as he seeks out the comfort of touch and heat. The leg brace is clunky and bulky, and he’s been forced to remain pantless since the day before, but it had been a small sacrifice to ensure that Rex’s leg is healing properly. However, the ship has been thoroughly climate-controlled into being on the cooler side. He easily brings the Mandalorian close with a gentle hand around his upper back to bring his head to rest against his chest, Rex squirms closer, burying his face into his chest and he can’t help but be smitten by the endearing behaviour.

They could stay here for a while, this is nice, he places a gentle kiss on top of Rex’s head and tightens his hold before allowing himself to drift off into an easy sleep.

* * *

Rex wakes with a shiver, he can’t tell if he’s comfortably warm or freezing because of the dammed climate control of the ship, he misses the temperature regulation of his armour. He misses his armour in a general sense as well, it had always been a semi-present ache in the back of his mind all throughout his time on Dandoran, but it had dulled over time as other aches and pains became much more demanding.

He wonders what Vizsla had done with his armour, he probably smelt it down just to spite him, the bastard probably would have made it into a trophy. He specifically doesn’t think about his stolen armour, he doesn’t want to ruin his comfort by suddenly bursting into tears. Doing so would probably freak Anakin out, and he’s just started acting like he can talk to Rex like a normal human being who won’t break down into murderous rage. If he loses all that progress over thinking about ‘what ifs’, well, he may just space himself.

He’d rather much have Anakin’s hand trailing random patterns over his bare thigh, the gentle touch feels good. Too good for something so simple but after years of hurt his body craves the mindless swipes of his fingers against his skin.

His head is smushed into his chest as well and he hopes he’s just on Anakin’s good side, just because he’s having a good time doesn’t mean Anakin has to be in pain. Remembering how the wretched black device had embedded itself into Anakin’s skin and muscles still bring him a moderate amount of rage, remembering how in pain he had been because of the Force blocker still makes him murderous. But that is all behind them, Anakin is safe, Anakin is healing.

There are tasks that he knows he has to do, distantly in the back of his mind, call Mandalore, tell his dad he isn’t dead, shave, see what kind of weapons the ship has.

Of all places he could have blindly typed in, of course, he inputted a moon within spitting distance of Florrum, Florrum means pirates, pirates mean Hondo Ohnaka. With the ways he and Jango had parted last time he was still around to see their interactions, it had been with Hondo hogtied in the middle of a field on Felucia shouting insults at them as they sped away.

With Hondo, you could never tell if you were a friend or the next payday, the Captain’s mood depended solely on money and with how expensive their ship is...If the pirates do spot them, they’re going to end up being his newest unwilling house guests…Which leads to a series of problems and fates and…

“You’re thinking too much.” Anakin murmurs and well…no he isn’t, there are just things he needs to do but the swamp man is so comfortable and…oh...

Anakin has trailed his hand a little too high on his thigh, and very abruptly his cock becomes incredibly invested by the ghosting of his fingers just below the crease of where his thigh meets his hip.

He does his best not to squirm, bites down on the moans that bubble up his throat as he pries his eyes open to see a very mischievous-looking Anakin.

“Maybe I can help you relax a little bit...” He trails off as he looks down at his tenting of his briefs.

“If you want to…” Rex trails off, his tongue going thick with the sudden onslaught of need that pools in his gut.

“I do, trust me.” Anakin says lifting his face to kiss him deeply before he slinks off the couch, it’s an ugly couch but it feels like he’s sitting on a cloud, he still questions why they had to make it _this_ bright of a red.

“I do too.” He murmurs, Anakin kisses him once before slinking off the couch.

However, the colour becomes ignorable as soon as Anakin spreads his legs and fits his broad shoulders between them. If his dick had been only tentatively interested before, looking at Anakin down on his knees has it straining against his briefs now, just begging to be touched.

However, as much as his cock begs to be touched Anakin seems far too interested in his legs, as he kisses a line up his inner thigh while his cybernetic hand kneads his flesh like a tooka, he bites down on the need to beg. He can be good, he can be patient, besides the soft kisses feel nice..-!

“Ah-” He chokes on a gasp as the swamp man bites down on the apex of this thigh, sucking a slight mark into his skin. He throws his arm over his face and leans back as he tries not to thrust into the air as Anakin chuckles softly. The bastard adds several more bites and nips across his upper thighs, he’s so close to his painfully hard cock he can feel the soft puffs of breath every time he intentionally ignores him.

He can’t stop the moan that tumbles out of his throat when he rucks up his tunic and starts to lick along the lines of his chest and abs, nip and sucking a path of marks wherever he wants. He’s going to look like a topographical map at this point.

“Are you hiding from me? C’mon, I want to hear you.” Anakin whispers as nips the shell of his ear and Rex can only whimper as he pries his arm off his face.

“If I look at you too long this is going to be over before we even start.” Rex mumbles embarrassedly, what is he a pent-up teenager?

Anakin huffs as another laugh before slinking down his body and playing with the hem of his briefs.

“Sounds like I better get started then.” He replies with a devilish smirk that makes him whine softly.

Finally, finally. He pulls his briefs down and he tries his best not to feel embarrassed about how hard he is. As much as he wants this to last he knows it won’t when Anakin wraps a hand around the base and wets his lips before he takes the head into his mouth.

With Anakin’s hands pressed firmly to his hips pinning him to the couch he can only squirm in place and moan like a pleasure droid as Anakin takes him apart.

Maybe, just maybe, this time, they won’t be interrupted before he has a chance to get Anakin in him, but his luck has never been good within the past three years. He must have pissed off some ancient Mandalorian deity and now he’s been cursed with the inability to get laid without having his life threatened during the afterglow.

But the ‘what ifs’ are problems for later as he feels his brain become numb with Anakin’s skillful technique. Seeing the man on his knees before him probably beats the view of the Aladeranni mountain range, if he’s being quite honest.

Anakin must know he’s looking because he looks up and winks before humming, the man is going to be the death of him.


	15. Ah Fuck, Not  You Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without the pressure of stress and grief weighing the man down, Obi-Wan can see the man Jango had once been maybe years ago.

“Where...going?” Rex mumbles as he feels Anakin shuffle off the bed. He tries clutching at the man’s sleep-warmed skin to keep him in the luxurious bed that they’ve claimed for their own but he only chuckles and nudges him until his sleep-heavy body falls back into the bedding with a soft sound of surprise.

“The ship’s navigation sent my datapad a ping, I’m going to go see if we’ve finally dropped out o hyperspace.” Anakin replies wiggling into a pair of briefs. He hates watching him leave but loves watching him go, he would have Anakin walking around nude all the time if it meant never having his favourite viewed covered by layers of clothing.

“Go back to sleep I’ll be back in a minute.” He says as he shuffles over to give him a lingering kiss and he's content enough to not put up too much of a fuss. Rex mumbles that he better keeps his cold toes away before grabbing Anakin's side of the blankets and rolling into them.

“Hmmm, can’t make any promises.” He teases before he lets the door close behind him, too tired to resist the pull of sleep he easily falls back into a deep slumber.

They’re nearing the end of their journey and he knows the little fantasy that they’ve created within the walls of their stolen luxury cruiser won’t hold up against the force of reality once they reach Mandalorian space.

Anakin still hasn’t said what he plans to do, it’s obvious he had some kind of life as a Jedi previously before whatever knocked his memories out of his skull. In a way he knows Anakin will probably want to seek out his memories, he doesn’t blame the man, he saw the files sitting idle on the datapad. If he had no idea who he was or where he had come from, not a single thing in the galaxy would stop him from hunting down every single one.

But knowing what Anakin might want to do without even mentioning it doesn’t stop him from wanting to ask him to come with him to Mandalore, to be by his side so he can show him all the wonders of his home planet. So he can show why he had wanted to come home so badly. But…as much as he wants to, as much as he yearns to just let the words tumble out of his mouth, he knows it would be a borderline cruel thing to make the man chose. He won’t make the man tear himself apart as he decides what life he wants to live, he won’t.

Anakin will follow his own path and if he wants to return, he will be waiting for him at then, and if he doesn't…He will have to let him go, Anakin isn’t an object to be possessed and he knows this. If he treats Anakin like a priceless artifact, to hoard him away it will send them both down a dark path he doesn’t even want to touch mentally.

In time everything will come together, he just has to be patient.

Sleep is a good distraction, _as well as other things._

* * *

When someone flips him over and pins him to the bed with a heavyweight, yanking him out of his deep restful sleep his body is caught between panic and intrigue as for a split second he thinks Anakin has come back from checking the ship for a second round of railing and getting railed like they had no other purpose in life. 

But as strong as Anakin is and how dense his muscles are, he’s not this heavy, or this scaly. His eyes snap open immediately as he tries to twist the assailant off of him as he growls fiercely, someone has caught up to them and he’ll be damned if he’s going to let some two-bit bounty hunter drag him back to Dandoran without a fight.

“Now, now, growling and raging like some mad do isn’t very princely of you, now it?” A malicious voice says, the question is followed by a hissed laugh and he’s been around the galaxy to know who his current assailants are, he wasn’t born yesterday.

“Aura, to what do I owe the displeasure?” He replies dryly as he can even as his heart hammers away, the bedside light flashes on and the room is bathed in a warm glow, one far too intimate for his current situation. With the way Bossk grins he knows the Trandoshan knows all his talk is for show, he could probably see his pounding heart from miles away.

“Oh Mandalorian, you wound me, I didn’t think a prince could ever be so rude, there’s no way your pretty little boy toy could ever genuinely want you, let alone a Jedi, how did you convince him to fuck you? Are you paying him?” Aura bites back, the bark in her voice is grating and the Trandoshan tightens his grip further until he feels his bones grind together and his hands go purple.

“It must be my shining personality and my charming good looks, I could probably hold Ohnaka down in a relationship better than you could, speaking of the old man, how has breakup number 8 been?” He isn’t surprised when she lets a bolt slice into the wall just above his head.

“I think you’re forgetting what kind of situation you’re in right now Fett, we have your Jedi in the airlock and at any moment if I feel like giving the word he’ll be nothing but space debris, now what’s it going to be?” Aura says with a laugh that holds nothing but cruelty and Rex goes limp, fear overtaking him as he pictures Anakin’s body being sucked out into the abyss of space.

He squeezes his eyes shut and swallows harshly, there’s no way he’s going to get anywhere with Bossk pinning him to the bed, Trandoshan’s are hard to kill and he’s heard the rumours of Aura’s force sensitivity, and well, he had stripped naked hours ago and now there’s nothing but a thin sheet separating him and the bounty hunter above him.

“What do you want Aura.” He says in defeat.

“Why are you asking questions you should already know the answer to? You’re the one floating in Florrum’s system, and you know I can’t pass up a good opportunity when I see it, I want to know how much daddy dearest will really pay to have you returned, maybe the throne itself? I always did fancy myself to be a queen.” She says with a whimsical sigh as she stands from the chair in the corner.

“Now, I’m going to go check on your little Jedi boy toy, be good for Bossk, I wouldn’t want anything to upset me when I’m gone, I do drastic things when I’m angry and I only need one of you.” She says before blowing Rex a kiss and letting the door slide closed behind her.

The silences his deafening between them after being sealed in the room together and he tries to think of any conceivable way where he could flip Bosk off of him, unarm and incapacitate him all before Aura notices anything has happened. But...As much as Aura’s crew likes hearty paydays he knows Bossk won’t bat an eye at clawing his throat open. Even if he can beat him back enough to escape the room, another bounty hunter will probably be waiting for him just outside the door.

He’s fucked, he let his guard down and now they’re at the mercy of bounty hunters. He can hear Bly laughing at him this time.

He’s pulled out of his frantic thinking when Bossk levels a blaster to his chest, place the tip of the gun right against his rapidly beating heart.

“You really don’t need to be awake for the rest of this trip.” He hisses, Rex opens his mouth to shout the man down but the burn of a stun-ring at close range stops the air from ever leaving his lungs.

Darkness claims him like Bossk had simply flicked a light switch off.

* * *

Without the pressure of stress and grief weighing the man down, Obi-Wan can see the man Jango had once been maybe years ago. It’s just before sunrise and the man is still deeply asleep with the sheets of his bed slung low across his hips and even as enticing of an image the man creates, deep asleep and fucked out, he’s not as young as he used to be and well, another round probably isn’t in the books for them. Even if this is to be a one-time occurrence he’ll have plenty of memories to remember fondly, it’s not like anyone can have the Mand’alor clutching at his sheet moaning their name.

But the need for another sexual release isn’t the reason he’s awake, he felt something he has not felt in a long, long time a presence that he thought he would never feel again after they lowered an empty coffin with Anakin’s name on it into the Temple floors. But no, what he felt is unmistakable, no one burns that bright in the Force, no one burns in such an indistinguishable way.

Anakin was like no other and he had raised the boy for ten years in where he memorized every single flicker of emotion he could produce, but, Anakin is still dead. He knows many things could cause an echo in the Force that mimics signatures when they leave deep enough impressions on the galaxy, the presence could even just be echoes from his crystal within his rediscovered lightsaber.

The crystal still thinks Anakin is alive, and he hasn’t had the heart to tell it otherwise, it still believes that he had simply abandoned or he had lost his saber. Without him, the crystal’s power has weakened, what is real and what are just echos along the Force have blurred together and he knows if he tells it what really happened to Anakin, the crystal will corrupt itself in grief and the last thing he wants to see is the blade turn red.

He has his responsibilities, he has his duties, he can’t go chasing after ghosts he’s already buried, he doesn’t need to go digging Anakin back up and rehash all the ugly, painful memories his death brings him.

He has a chance to help a man reclaim his living son from a wretched fate, he has a chance to save someone. But still, the echoes make him ache for a time where Anakin had been just a young boy who had trusted Obi-Wan to show him that life wasn’t just pain and suffering, that he could be good and others would be better because of him.

But now all that’s left is empty space between the stars.

“You’re up early..” Mumbles Jango who rubs at his face tiredly as he pushes himself up the bed.

“Hmm, sorry did I wake you?” Obi-Wan asks as the man grunts a negative sounding noise as he keeps his eyes closed.

“Things need to be organized and sorted before we go off to Dandoran, my sons will have no problem overseeing Mandalore and I know the Duchess of Concordia needs no intervention from me, she never has. If anything does happen Arla and her Jai'galaars will do what’s necessary.” Jango replies as he rubs his face roughly.

He’s never heard that name before.

“If I can ask, who is Arla?” Obi-Wan asks as he watches the man reluctantly roll out of bed and curse when his feet hit the cold floor.

“Hmm, she’s my sister, she’s never been one for the spotlight or politics, she mostly spends her days' training and leading Mandalore’s warriors while leaving me to do the paperwork.” Jango huffs and Obi-Wan smiles ruefully.

“I have a feeling Anakin would have been very much enthralled with your sister, when do we depart for Dandoran, I will have to contact the Jedi Council and tell them of the change of plans.” Obi-Wan says.

“About mid-day today, if you have other duties to attend to for the good of your people, prioritize those instead, my son still isn’t your responsibility and with Viszla imprisoned now you have ensured everything you promised when you first arrived.” Jango tells him from over his shoulder as he stares at the rising sun through the balcony doors.

The man has thrown up thick shields and from his defensive slouch, he knows better than to poke at him now.

“What I said still stands, Ahsoka and I will accompany you to Dandoran to search for your son, if there is a slave-ring established there, it’s better that the Jedi know of it rather than remaining oblivious to outer-rim crime.” Obi-Wan tells him firmly and Jango chuckles slightly, it’s not a happy sound, more like a sound of amazed disbelief.

“You are a confusing man Obi-Wan, I’ve never met a Jedi who would voluntarily spend time with a Mandalorian, but if your mind is made up for certain I will not prevent you from coming. I’m sure your apprentice should be near my sons if you wish to find her, I will hail you when it is time to leave.” Jango tells him, a small genuine smile on his face as he turns to look at him.

“Well, Mand’alor you will have to tell me when you do figure me out, but for now I think I’ll enjoy the mystery I create.” Obi-Wan says teasingly, looking the other man up and down suggestively before he flips out of bed leaving Jango red-faced and generously aroused as he turns his back to get dressed.

“I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. I don’t want you going easy on me” Jango growls slightly and he’d be lying if the sound of his rough voice doesn’t reignite fresh arousal in his body.

Maybe Ahsoka could wait for another hour or two, she did deserve a break and well, it’s a good enough excuse to beckon the red-faced Mandalorian back to the bed with a smirk.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me your thoughts!


End file.
